wL,  «*, 


OMt.  Of  CALIF.  LIBRARY.  LOS  ANGEU* 


SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 


from  i|je 


CORNELIA 


"  Wisdom  is  ofttimes  nearer  when  we  stoop 
Than  when  we  soar." 

—WORDSWORTH. 


CINCINNATI: 
CURTS    &    JENNINGS. 

NEW  YORK: 

EATON    &    MAINS. 


Copyright, 

CRANSTON  &  STOWE, 
1889. 


,HE  hand  of  Providence  is  evident  in  hu- 
man  affairs.  Little  as  we  may  think  of  it> 
<2/j  sSJ  and  however  much  our  purposes  may  be 
Y  crossed,  all  things  work  together  for  good 
to  those  who  love  God  and  serve  him.  It  is 
well  for  the  young  to  learn  this  lesson :  that 
not  always  is  their  own  way  the  best,  even 
though  it  may  seem  to  have  the  greatest  promise 
of  success.  The  plans  which  they  have  for  their 
life  may  be  ill  devised.  Their  efforts  to  gain 
place  or  fame  or  wealth  may  be  the  most  harm- 
ful; and  yet  neither  place,  nor  fame,  nor  wealth 
is  in  itself  an  evil.  Man's  chief  end  is  to  glorify 
God  and  enjoy  him  forever.  If  any  other  thing 
is  made  the  end  of  living,  a  man's  life  will  be  a 
failure.  These  truths  are  illustrated  in  the  story 

3 


2131315 


4  PREFATORY  NOTE. 

told  in  the  following  pages.  It  also  shows, 
what  was  long  ago  spoken  by  the  Hebrew 
prophet,  "He  that  getteth  riches,  and  not  by 
right,  shall  leave  them  in  the  midst  of  his  days, 
and  at  his  end  shall  be  a  fool."  It  is  safe  to 
leave  all  things  to  God;  to  let  him  direct  the 
course  of  our  lives ;  to  accept  the  changes  of 
fortune  as  ordered  directly  by  him ;  when  pros- 
perity is  our  lot,  to  use  it  for  his  glory ;  and 
when  adversity  befalls  us,  neither  to  repine  nor 
to  relax  our  efforts,  but  to  take  up  our  burden 
cheerfully,  hopefully,  and  with  good  courage. 
To  young  readers  especially  these  pages  are 
commended. 

EDITOR. 


I  II  I  ll.l  I  I  I  I  I  I  I  I  I  I  I  I  I  I  I  I  I  I  I  I  I  I  II  1. 1,1,1  1 .1, 1  I  I  I  I  ]  I 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER.  PAGE. 

I.  THE  MANSARD  HOME, 7 

II.  "As  I  WILL," 34 

III.  CASTOR  AND  POLLUX 64 

IV.  THE  STAR  OF  LOVE, 100 

V.    "AUF  WlEDERSEHEN," 133 

VI.  ARMOR  TO  ARMOR 173 

VII.  IT  PLEASETH  HIM, 211 

VIII.  IN  THE  VALLEY, 235 

IX.  ON  THE  HEIGHTS, 269 

X.  THE  MISSING  LINK 298 

5 


M i y? i M i ij-rrn « i  roTTTJrtTT-i  »TI  ' f ' i'rf* i" i" i" 


i  liiTi  i  11  1  i  i  i 

^.X... 


THE 

S  op 


i. 

"One  adequate  support 
For  the  calamities  of  mortal  life 
Exists — one  only  ;  an  assured  belief 
That  the  procession  of  our  fate,  howe'er 
Sad  or  disturbed,  is  ordered  by  a  Being 
Of  infinite  benevolence  and  power, 
Whose  everlasting  purposes  embrace 
All  accidents,  converting  them  to  good." 

— WORDSWORTH. 

i  ROM  the  tower  of  the  great  church  of  St. 
James,  situated  in  the  center  of  the  world- 
renowned  commercial  city  of  Stettin,  the 
clock  pealed  forth  the  morning  hour  of 
four.  It  was  in  May,  1866.  A  delicious 
breeze  of  morning  freshness  came  from  the 
meadows  along  the  broad  bed  of  the  swift,  in- 
walled  Oder,  and  from  the  farther  distant  sea 
still  concealed  by  the  mist.  Over  the  Prussian 

7 


8  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

fortress,  at  the  rear  of  which  expanded  an  out- 
lying park,  the  first  sunbeam  rested,  skirting 
pinnacle  and  embrasure  with  a  golden  rim.  It 
had  now  become  day  in  good  earnest,  and  the 
lofty  stone  colossus  in  St.  James  had  received 
also  its  crown  of  light.  The  old  buildings  which 
surrounded  it  in  a  circle,  and  whos'e  manifold 
and  wondrously  formed  gables  lifted  themselves  in 
fantastic  confusion  amid  and  above  one  another, 
stood  out  prominently,  like  shadows  of  a  long- 
past  time,  in  the  midst  of  the  newly  awakening 
spring  joys;  for  now  the  sparrows,  too,  had 
become  lively,  crying  out  in  full  voice,  and  flut- 
tering like  a  swarm  of  May  beetles  around  a 
particular  little  third-story  window  belonging  to 
one  of  the  above-mentioned  houses. 

The  window  opened.  A  small,  womanly  face 
looked  sharply  out,  sniffed  the  balmy  May  air, 
and  gazed  with  earnest  attention,  as  if  to  descry 
the  physiognomy  of  the  coming  day.  Mean- 
while the  odor  of  freshly  browned  coffee  came 
from  the  gigantic  chimney ;  the  window  was 
closed  again,  and  Linnie  Bergmann,  a  slender 
maiden,  over  whom  forty  years  might  have 
been  written,  withdrew  to  the  interior  of  her 
little  room. 

We  see  her  there  in  a  neat,  dark-blue,  printed 
wrapper,  sitting  upon  the  edge  of  a  stool, 
energetically  turning  the  coffee-mill.  Once  she 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  9 

ceased,  and  looking  toward  the  window,  upon 
which  the  sparrows  rapped  with  their  beaks  im- 
patiently, she  said,  imperiously:  "You  must 
wait ;  who  is  it  that  does  not  learn,  after  all,  to 
wait?"  Then  she  went  into  the  little  adjoining 
kitchen,  whence  the  light  of  a  clear  fire  was 
reflected  into  the  mansard  room  where  she  and 
her  mother  dwelt. 

It  was  not  very  spacious,  but  it  had  a  very 
home-like,  cozy  appearance.  A  fine  polish  rested 
on  the  old-fashioned  furniture ;  in  the  deeply 
indented  niches  of  the  Gothic  roof  was  cut  a 
window,  giving  room  for  an  old-time  sewing- 
table,  a  canary-bird,  and  a  row  of  beautiful 
plants  in  the  full  bloom  of  May  splendor.  The 
sewing-table  stood  like  an  altar,  bedecked  with 
the  dearest  and  best  of  its  owner's  possessions. 
Above  it,  adorned  with  an  ivy-wreath,  hung  the 
portrait  of  a  young  man,  whose  dreamy  eyes  fell 
upon  the  great  marble-top,  which  was  covered 
with  purple  velvet. 

Linnie  Bergmann  was  a  seamstress.  She 
loved  to  see  the  sun  rise  over  the  roofs,  as  it  was 
just  now  adorning  them,  in  a  flotilla  of  rosy-red 
little  clouds.  The  fire  in  the  kitchen  leaped 
higher,  and  the  water  in  the  kettle  boiled.  She 
tripped  hastily  thither,  coffee-mill  in  hand,  and 
while  the  breakfast  was  preparing  she  returned 
to  the  room,  where  there  were  all  kinds  of  duties 


10  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

to  be  performed  before  the  frugal  meal  could  be 
enjoyed. 

In  a  second,  adjacent  bed  lay  the  mother, 
with  open,  longing  eyes,  evidently  waiting  im- 
patiently for  Linnie  to  prepare  her  morning 
toilet,  to  give  her  a  fresh  cap,  to  sweep  the  room, 
and  admit  the  morning  air.  This  she  finally  did 
in  an  apparently  calm,  and  therefore  very  delib- 
erate, manner,  gently  flitting  hither  and  thither, 
overlooking  no  particle  of  dust,  and  pursuing  an 
obstinate  little  feather  far  under  the  bed.  At 
length  everything  was  in  order  in  the  little  man- 
sard room,  and  the  great  splendor  which  lay  over 
the  outside  world  was  reflected  here  in  obliquely 
falling  sunbeams. 

The  old  woman  sat  up  in  bed ;  Linnie  poured 
out  the  coffee,  then  went  to  the '  window  and 
scattered  a  handful  of  crumbs  on  the  cornice  for 
the  sparrows. 

"I  have  rolls  for  you,  mother,"  she  said, 
turning  her  head  towards  her.  "They  are  on 
the  hearth  to  warm;  I  brought  them  from 
Neuberfs." 

"But  come,  drink  your  coffee,  IJnnie,"  re- 
plied the  mother,  "before  it  gets  cold,  or  you 
will  feel  weak  going  around  so  long  without  it" 

Linnie  obeyed,  came  and  sat  beside  the  table ; 
then  exclaimed:  "Not  yet,  mother;  I  must 
sing  first" 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  1 1 

And  in  clear,  pure  tones  she  lifted  up  a  m:rn 
ing  hymn,  confident  as  the  lark,  which  a>.vay-= 
soars  over  the  top  of  the  tower  to  warble  its 
praise  aloft  in  the  azure.  The  old  woman  had 
stopped  sipping,  and  folded  her  trembling  hands 
around  the  cup.  Linnie's  voice  was  fine,  genuine 
gold ;  not  a  drop  of  vinegar  held  the  remotest 
dominion  there. 

"Linnie,"  began  the  mother,  when  the  song 
was  ended,  and  the  breakfast  in  possession  of  its 
full  rights,  "last  night  I  again  saw  the  evening 
star  change. into  the  morning  star,  and  the  hours 
were  long  to  me,  because  my  leg  was  too  full  of 
pain  to  turn.  But  you  always  preach  patience  to 
me,  like  a  good  pastor,  and  although  I  lay 
awake  all  night,  I  did  not  murmur  against  our 
Lord.  One  can  not  expect,  at  my  age,  to  have 
no  sleepless  nights." 

"And  He  sends  you  such  a  May-day  as  we 
nave  not  had  this  year,"  replied  the  daughter. 
Then  she  gathered  up  the  breakfast-dishes,  car- 
ried them  to  the  kitchen,  and  began  to  wash  the 
cups.  Through  the  open  door  she  chatted  with 
the  invalid. 

"For  dinner,  to-day,  I  have  a  roast  The 
councilor  sent  it  to  you.  Their  always  have 
roasts  at  his  house.  The  apple  ftrmfSte  his  wife 
gave  me  in  a  glass,  and  I  have  placed  it  on  the 
table  so  that  no  one  else  can  set  it.  Frau  Miller 


12  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

will  bring  you  half  a  pound  of  veal  for  the 
soup,  when  it  is  time." 

"You  do  too  much  for  me,  Linnie. " 

"Don't  say  that,  mother;  that  is  just  like 
dusting  an  auricula  which  is  perfectly  pure  with 
flower-pollen,  or  seizing  it  in  the  face  to  strip 
off  its  enamel!  What  would  be  the  use  of  this 
old  maid  in  the  world  if  I  hadn't  a  mother?" 

"You  old,  Linnie?"  the  mother  laughed. 
"You  are  just  like  the  bright  spring, — every- 
thing beams  around  you.  If  you  plant  a  little 
cutting  it  begins  to  bloom  in  a  month  •  the 
little  children  all  run  after  you,  and  the  birds  fly 
to  your  hand  ;  they  never  do  this  to  old  people." 

"O,  the  joker!"  was  the  merry  retort; 
"there  is  something  right  in  that;"  and  stepping 
again  to  the  window,  she  proceeded  to  throw  out 
another  handful  of  crumbs,  remnants  of  the 
breakfast.  Standing  there,  she  cast  a  long  glance 
over  the  valley,  from  which  the  mist  was  begin- 
ning to  rise.  "That  is  the  sign  of  a  beautiful 
May,"  she  said,  after  a  pause;  "beautiful,  but 
warm.  How  the  old  Oder  smokes !  One  can 
scarcely  see  the  ships,  and  they  are  near  enough  ; 
and  although  it  is  so  early  I  can  open  the  win- 
dow. Will  you  sew  a  hem,  mother?"  Where- 
with she  gave  the  invalid  her  spectacles  and 
basket  filled  with  neatly  prepared  materials ;  then 
began  to  make  ready  to  go  out. 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  13 

"Must  you  go  so  soon,  Linnie  ?  For  whom 
do  you  sew  to-day,  so  promptly?" 

Linnie's  face  was  toward  the  looking  glass. 
No  one  could  have  observed  the  passing  cloud 
which,  for  an  instant,  troubled  her  usually  laugh- 
ing face.  She  looked  intently  now  into  the 
mirror.  Did  she  discern  to-day,  for  the  first 
time,  the  single,  fine,  white  streak  mingled  with 
the  smooth,  dark  brown  hair?  She  replied  with 
a  quickly  suppressed  sigh : 

"To  GrUnhof,  mother,  at  old  Hechterling's. 
You  surely  know  Thursday  is  their  day." 

"O,  there!"  exclaimed  the  old  woman,  con- 
temptuously. "You  shouldn't  go  there  any 
more.  We  have,  thank  God,  work  enough ;  and 
they  don't  deserve  you." 

"Never  mind,"  replied  Linnie;  "we  can  not 
tell  for  whose  good  it  may  be  for  me  to  go  to 
old  Hechterling's.  See?  But  you  mustn't  men- 
tion this,  mother ;  no  one  else  will  remain  there, 
and  they  must  have  some  one  to  keep  their 
clothes  in  order." 

"You  never  bring  anything  home  with  you 
from  old  Hechterling's,"  continued  the  mother, 
somewhat  peevishly;  "or,  if  you  do,  you  must 
always  carry  it  yourself,  so  that  everybody  shall 
see  it." 

Linnie  began  to  laugh.  "There  never  falls  a 
crumb  to  satisfy  a  mouse.  They  always  act  as 


14  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

though  they  were  obliged  to  starve  themselves ; 
and  yet  the  place  is  filled  with  boxes  and  bar- 
rels, and  the  store-room  hangs  full  of  bacon  and 
sausage.  But  it  is  no  blessing  to  them  ;  for  with 
it  all  they  are  not  happy." 

She  had  ended  her  preparations.  A  half-worn 
circular  covered  her  slender  form  ;  out  of  a  sim- 
ple hat,  with  its  fresh  wreath,  beamed  a  quiet, 
earnest  face  upon  the  disturbed  mother.  But 
what  of  this  face  and  its  expression,  when  one 
closely  observed  it?  No  one  could  call  it 
"pretty,"  and  yet  it  was  far  from  homely.  It 
was  a  very  simple  face ;  thoughtful,  careful  for 
others,  warm-hearted,  with  no  trace  of  bitter- 
ness, misanthropy,  or  hatred  concealed  therein — 
such  qualities  must  vanish  like  ice  beneath  the 
sun's  kiss.  An  interesting  face,  truly. 

"  Yes  ;  there  is  no  blessing  with  it,"  reiterated 
the  old  woman;  "why  should  there  be?  And 
how  you  can  go  there,  Linnie,  and  do  for  them, 
just  as  though  nothing  had  ever  been  between 
you,  I  can 't  understand.  Every  stitch  you  take 
must  pierce  your  heart,  I  should  think ;  and  yet 
one  would  believe  that  everything  was  perfectly 
peaceful  between  you  and  old  Hechterling." 

"My  heart  is  no  longer  pierced,  mother.  It 
is  not  a  heart  of  flesh  and  blood ;  the  grace  of 
God  has  made  me  spiritually  minded.  Why, 
then,  shouldn't  I  go  to  old  Hechterling's?" 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  15 

"So  do,  in  God's  name;  but  take  no  greet- 
ing from  me,  Linnie ;  do  you  hear  ?  They 
brought  unhappiness  to  my  only  child,  and  I 
should  rather  my  tongue  cleave  to  the  roof  of 
my  mouth  than  greet  such  people.  I  'd  rather 
greet  my  old  coffee  pot." 

"But  that  is  a  fine,  old,  royal  pot,  mother." 

"Yes,  indeed  it  is,  and  no  one  has  a  better; 
we  drank  to  your  betrothal  out  of  it.  Twenty 
years  ago  since  I  sewed  on  the  outfit." 

"Adieu,  mother,"  cried  Linnie,  seizing  her 
umbrella  and  satchel,  without  which  she  never 
went  out — "'forgetting  those  thing;  which  are 
behind,  and  reaching  forth  unto  those  things 
which  are  before,'  says  the  apostle  Paul.  You 
know  I  am  very  happy,  and  the  Lord  is  mer- 
ciful to  us  alway.  We  want  for  nothing,  and 
the  lively  faith  and  the  ardent  hope  of  a  new 
heaven  and  a  new  earth,  go  with  us  when  we  lie 
down  and  when  we  rise  up."  Whereupon  she 
went  down  stairs. 

"But  don't  give  them  any  greeting  from 
me,"  she  heard  the  mother  cry  out  after  her. 

She  crossed  St.  James  Place  diagonally,  through 
the  wide,  and  then  up  the  narrow  Dome  Street. 
Over  all  a  ready,  active  life  had  enfolded.  Heav- 
ily laden  wagons  followed  one  another,  between 
which  people  on  foot  made  their  way  with  diffi- 
culty on  the  narrow  paths.  It  seemed  to  her  as 


r6  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

if  they  jostled  by  to-day  with  more  haste  than 
ever,  and  as  if  there  could  be  read  upon  all  faces 
a  strong,  increasing  excitement. 

"Do  you  think  there  will  be  war,  Linnie  ?" 
asked  an  acquaintance,  in  passing. 

"With  the  French?"  replied  Linnie,  no  other 
nation  being  able  to  menace  the  Prussian  father- 
land as  a  threatening  enemy,  in  her  opinion. 

"No,  not  yet.  But  they  say,  with  Austria. 
I  shall  go  quickly  and  tell  it  to  Fran  Mayern — 
she  thinks  so  much  of  herself,  with  her  three  sons 
in  the  king's  regiment.  Now  this  is  what  she 
gets  by  it." 

Linnie  hastened  along.  She  had  grown 
alanfted  over  this  war  news,  which  had  fallen  so 
unexpectedly.  Folding  her  hands  closely  be- 
neath the  circular,  and  sighing,  she  thought: 
"Blood  and  tears  again,  so  soon!" 

'  The  campaign,  which  had  lasted  two  years, 
had  aroused  her  sympathy  to  its  depths,  and  she 
hoped  another  similar  calamity  might  not  re- 
turn. "Ah!  and  we  have  so  little  fear  of  God 
among  us.  The  Stettiners  are  so  wise,  they  fancy 
they  have  no  longer  need  of  repentance  and 
prayer." 

At  length  the  end  of  her  long  walk  was 
reached — a  well  cared-for  dwelling,  lying  apart  in 
the  midst  of  larger  ones,  and  separated  from  the 
street  by  a  small  front  garden.  Tall  rose-bushes, 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  '  17 

showing  their  pleasure  in  growth  by  strong, 
shooting  sprouts  and  a  wealth  of  buds,  stood,  as 
though  invested  with  a  certain  etiquette,  in  rank 
and  file.  Underneath  were  strawberries  in  long 
rows,  while  farther  beyond  space  had  been  ap- 
propriated for  all  kinds  of  vegetable  culture. 
Method  and  precision,  devoid  of  all  artistic  taste, 
reigned  everywhere.  Not  a  single  blade  dare 
spring  up  without  some  strongly  proved,  pre- 
meditated design. 

Linnie  walked  in  with  a  certain  ere.ct  mien,  as 
if  in  unison  with  the  surroundings.  Her  lips 
were  compressed,  and  her  usually  placid  forehead 
became  contracted  in  wrinkles.  Entering  the 
house  from  the  rear,  as  an  old  acquaintance,  she 
found  herself  in  a  rather  dark  apartment  adjoin- 
ing the  kitchen,  whose  window  overlooked  the 
vegetable  garden.  Frau  Hechterling,  the  wife 
of  a  rich,  former  butcher,  who  had  retired  from 
business  to  live  upon  his  acquired  fortune,  was 
seated  beside  a  large  table  covered  with  black 
oil-cloth,  drinking  coffee.  A  huge,  thick  loaf 
of  bread,  some  butter,  sausage,  and  bacon  were 
before  her.  She  "was  large  and  meager.  A 
prominent  hook-nose  curved  itself  over  a  small, 
pinched  mouth  in  a  pronounced  bow,  giving  her 
the  appearance  of  an  owl,  while  her  small  eyes 
winked  and  flickered  from  their  red  edges  like 
those  of  a  criminal  unable  to  remain  quiet,  but 


i8  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

restlessly  roaming  hither  and  thither,  unmiti- 
gated by  the  soft  breath  of  heavenly  peace. 

When  Linnie  entered  with  a  greeting,  these 
eyes  leered  obliquely  toward  an  old  clock,  whose 
measured  "tick-tack"  announced  the  passing  of 
the  beautiful  May-day.  The  large  hand  was 
exactly  at  five  minutes  after  eight  o'clock. 

"I  beg  pardon,"  said  Linnie,  having  observed 
the  glance.  "I  was  detained  on  the  way  by 
people  excited  over  the  prospect  of  a  war  with 
Austria.  Isn't  it  terrible,  Frau  Hechterling?" 

"It 's  nothing  to  a  seamstress,"  was  .the  reply, 
given  with  grim  significance;  "the  work  can't 
wait  on  that  account.  But  you  must  drink  your 
coffee,  so  that  it  sha'n't  be  wasted." 

She  pointed  to  a  small  table  placed  squarely 
against  the  window.  Over  the  back  of  a  chair 
before  it  hung  a  wadded  dressing-gown,  of  that 
old,  wonderfully  figured,  and  indestructible  ma- 
terial which  was  everywhere  used  in  the  begin- 
ning of  the  nineteenth  century.  Gay-colored 
cotton  fabrics  were  rather  expensive  at  that  time, 
and  prized  by  all  housewives. 

"The  old  man's  gown  wants  mending  again," 
continued  Frau  Hechterling  vigorously,  stand- 
ing up  and  balancing  the  aforementioned  gar- 
ment on  her  arm.  "I  have  always  told  him, 
'Fritz,'  I  say,  'if  you  don't  take  better  care  of 
this  dressing-gown  you  will  ruin  it.'  But  he 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  19 

sweeps  around  in  it  as  if  it  were  an  old  mop, 
and  all  right  so  far,  on  purpose  to  make  me  econo- 
mize with  the  eating  and  wages." 

She  spoke  in  angry,  snappish  tones.  Linnie 
laughed,  and  critically  examined  the  heavy  ob- 
ject under  consideration.  Then  she  inquired 
whether  there  were  any  patches. 

"How  could  there  be?"  replied  the  old 
woman,  peevishly.  "Patches  don't  drop  out 
of  the  air.  My  man  got  the  gown  from  his 
lieutenant  when  he  was  his  attendant,  and  served 
his  time.  His  aunt  made  the  thing  for  him  when 
he  had  hurt  his  foot,  but  he  did  n't  like  it.  He 
was  as  hard  as  an  old  Polar  bear,  and  used  to 
pour  a  pail  of  water  over  his  body  every  morn- 
ing. The  gown  must  have  cost  money  enough; 
it  is  as  good  yet  as  when  Fritz  got  it  and  brought 
it  home  to  me." 

"There  is  a  hole  burned  in  it."  said  Linnie, 
regretfully;  "and  as  to  the  sleeves,  we  shall 
have  to  make  new  ones." 

"That's  been  done  with  his  pipe!  As  if  I 
have  n't  often  enough  told  him  about  that. 
'  Fritz, '  I  say,  '  what 's  the  use  of  smoking  ?  Does 
it  bring  you  anything  in,  or  does  it  bring  me  any- 
thing in?  Who  gives  us  the  money  again  when 
it  is  puffed  off  in  the  air?'  But  he  won't  listen 
to  me,  and  only  blows  the  smoke  in  my  face — 
the  old  Turk!" 


20  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

"How  can  you  talk  so  about  your  husband?" 
said  Linnie,  reprovingly. 

"  Ugh  !  what  do  you  know  about  men  ?  You 
are  an  old  maid,  and  think  they  are  wonders ; 
but  they  are  nothing  but  plagues." 

"As  you  understand  them,"  interjected 
Linnie. 

Frau  Hechterling  now  brought  forward  a  bun- 
dle of  various  remnants,  from  which  Linnie 
should  select  something  for  the  sleeves  most 
suitable.  She  searched  long  and  matched  with 
care,  and  finally  discovered  a  piece  of  dark  red, 
with  yellow  stars,  which  had  probably  the  same 
Georgia  ancestor  as  the  gown. 

It  was  not  the  same;  but  it  might  possibly 
deceive  an  uninitiated,  at  a  distance.  Linnie  set 
herself  to  work  immediately,  and  Frau  Hechter- 
ling went  to  the  kitchen.  The  former,  although 
her  back  was  turned,  observed  the  steaming 
kettle  hovering  over  her  little  coffee-pot,  evi- 
dently with  the  intention  of  diluting  the  con- 
tents. But  Linnie  was  a  character.  She  pro- 
posed here,  as  in  every  other  house,  to  use  her 
needle  assiduously,  and  therefore  exacted  in 
return  what  belonged  to  her — nothing  more,  and 
nothing  less. 

"O,  don't  do  that,  dear  Frau  Hechterling," 
she  cried  out  peremptorily  into  the  kitchen,  and 
not  without  a  certain  roguishness  of  voice  and 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  21 

manner;  "I  have  no  headache  today,  and  feel 
as  fresh  as  a  lark.  I  only  care  for  one  cup,  as  I 
have  taken  the  first  with  my  mother." 

Frau  Hechterling  was  startled,  but  soon  en- 
tered the  room  bringing  the  breakfast  and  a  half- 
burnt  roll,  at  the  same  time  muttering  some 
unintelligible  words  as  she  placed  them  on  Lin- 
nie's  little  table. 

"Thank  you,"  said  Linnie  ;  "but  you  have  n't 
a  good  baker,  Frau  Hechterling.  One  is  always 
obliged  to  direct  servants  day  after  day. "  She  was 
perfectly  well  aware  that  the  strongly  burnt  stuff 
had  been  accepted  because  it  had  been  obtained 
at  half  price. 

Frau  Hechterling  made  no  reply,  but  re- 
turned to  the  kitchen,  where  she  began  to 
scold  a  simple-looking  servant  girl,  driving  her 
from  one  corner  to  another,  and  making  a  great 
noise  among  the  pots  and  pans. 

Soon  after  a  second  door  was  opened,  and  a 
broad,  pulpy  man,  with  a  red,  bloated  face,  entered 
heavily.  The  burden  of  years  had  bowed  the 
bones  and  sinews'  of  this  gigantic  creature,  with- 
out impairing  his  strength.  His  coarse,  rough 
features,  bearing  the  impress  of  his  bloody  voca- 
tion, had  always  been  exceedingly  repulsive  to 
Linnie.  He  was  in  his  shirt-sleeves,  and  walked 
about  as  if  there  was  no  one  in  the  room,  reply- 
ing to  Linnie's  courteous  greeting  with  an  indif- 


22  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

ferent  nod  and  a  kind  of  grunt,  which  seemed 
to  stick  in  his  throat. 

His  wife  cried  out  from  the  kitchen:  "Good 
for  you,  now !  Your  gown  has  to  be  mended, 
and  you  must  go  in  your  shirt-sleeves.  I  always 
told  you  what  comes  of  smoking." 

"Dumb-head!"  was  his  uncivil  response,  as 
he  seated  himself  at  the  breakfast-table.  Pull- 
ing up  his  sleeves  as  though  he  were  about  to 
slay  an  ox,  he  began  to  eat  with  a  kind  of  fe- 
rocity. By  means  of  a  carving-knife  he  cut  off 
great  chunks  of  sausage  and  bacon,  put  them  on 
the  bread,  and  shoved  it  all  into  his  mouth,  accom- 
panied by  enormous  draughts  of  thin  coffee,  in 
a  way  that  made  the  gurgling  and  swallowing 
heard  throughout  the  entire  room. 

"One  might  as  well  be  among  cannibals," 
thought  the  delicate,  sensitive  Linnie,  with  a  per- 
ceptible shudder.  And  sh£  felt  inexpressibly 
relieved  when  the  old  man  put  on  his  coat  and 
went  out ;  for  she  had,  meanwhile,  mentioned 
the  war  news,  and  he  was  curious  to  hear  more 
about  it. 

At  dinner  she  was  obliged  to  sit  with  both 
these  digusting  people.  No  spread  covered  the 
table ;  and  Frau  Hechterling  placed  the  soup- 
dish  on  the  black  oil  cloth  with  a  slap,  being 
infuriated  beyond  measure  because  the  young 
servant-girl  had  dropped,  by  mistake,  a  spoonful 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  23 

of  flour  in  the  ashes — her  light  sobs  being  heard 
in  the  kitchen. 

The  husband  returned  from  the  city,  threw 
his  coat  on  a  chair,  then  sat  down  upon  another 
with  so  much  force  it  creaked  all  over. 

"What  a  discordant  tone  this  godless  man 
produces!"  thought  Linnie ;  then  folding  her 
hands,  she  softly  uttered  a  blessing.  This  was 
her  custom,  and  any  food  was  unpalatable  to  her 
which  was  not  received  from  God's  hand  with 
gratitude  and  expressed  thanks ;  even  as  a  little, 
tame  bird  receives  food  from  the  hand  of  a 
beloved  master. 

"Never  mind  your  pious  ways,"  said  old 
Hechterling;  "I  don't  like  them." 

Linnie  looked  into  his  red  face  with  her  clear 
brown  eyes : 

"General  Von  Geldern  stands  still  to  hear 
my  table-prayer  (for  I  could  not  eat  without 
it),  whenever  he  passes  through  the  room  where 
I  am  at  work.  Yes,  he  stands  and  waits  until  I 
am  ready.  Please,  also,  have  patience  with  me," 
she  answered. 

"Bah!  do  you  think  what  he  does  has  the 
slightest  influence  upon  me?  or  that  I  l^ke  a 
single  step  out  of  my  way  when  we  meet  on  the 
sidewalk  ?" 

"You  blow  away  like  a  turkey-gobbler," 
interjected  his  wife. 


24  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

General  Von  Geldern,  commander  at  Stettin, 
had  been  in  his  time  a  jolly  lieutenant,  and  the 
very  one  to  whom  his  thoughtful  aunt  had  sent 
the  gay-flowered  gown,  which  had  been  given  to 
his  attendant  after  a  few  weeks'  possession,  and 
who  was  now  the  retired  butcher,  Hechterling. 
The  general  must  have  practiced  an  energetic 
regimen;  for  Hechterling,  to  this  day,  never  heard 
his  name  mentioned  without  an  outburst  of 
wild  fury. 

"Bah!"  he  repeated,  pouring  out  a  glass  of 
beer  so  violently  that  the  foam  gushed  over ;  and 
which  Linnie,  a  paragon  of  neatness,  drew  back 
to  avoid.  "You  are  very  distinguished — you, 
with  your  piety  and  your  general,"  he  sneeringly 
added. 

Linnie  only  laughed.  "I  am  a  seamstress, 
very  happy  and  contented  in  my  calling.  I  go 
here  and  there  in  very  different  families,  I  assure 
you,  and  it  gives  me  pleasure  to  study  the 
people — to  see  how  one  is  so,  and  another  not  so. 
I  like  the  general.  Tf  he  permits  me  to  ask  a 
blessing,  you  should  also."  And  Linnie  looked 
around  fearlessly  and  with  spirit. 

"You  are  a  goose,"  he  retorted  rudely. 

"Well,  that  is  a  very  useful  animal.  Once 
everybody  wrote  with  goose-quills ;  wrote  beau- 
tiful songs,  and  wise,  God-pleasing  thoughts. 
Even  without  her  feathers  the  goose  would  not 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  25 

be  despised,  to  say  nothing  of  the  roast,  the  oil, 
and  the  expensive  pat/  de  fois  gras. " 

"Let  her  alone,"  said  the  wife,  decidedly; 
"you  know  you  don't  agree.  What's  the  use 
of  quarreling?  All  I  care  for  is  to  get  the  gown 
finished  to-day." 

Linnie  arose,  returned  thanks,  then  resumed 
her  work. 

The  afternoon  brought  with  it  hours  when 
she  began  to  feel  fatigued,  and  kept  her  eyes  open 
with  great  effort.  It  had  been  otherwise  in  her 
youth ;  then  all  hours  of  the  day  were  alike ;  but 
she  had  now  worked  uninterruptedly  twenty- 
two  years.  Still  the  money  she  held  in  her 
hand  at  night  must  be  conscientiously  earned,  in 
spite  of  weariness  through  failing  eyesight ;  and 
she  struggled  on  assiduously,  until  refreshed  by 
some  coffee  at  four  o'clock. 

It  was  between  six  and  seven  o'clock  in  the 
evening  when  the  door-bell  gave  a  quick,  shrill 
clang,  which  startled  her.  Old  Hechterling, 
who  was  busy  in  the  garden,  stamped  thither  as 
quickly  as  possible,  and  received  a  telegram  from 
a  messenger.  As  he  was  not  very  skillful 
in  reading  penmanship,  he  brought  the  blue 
missive  to  Linnie,  with  an  authoritative  ges- 
ture. She  opened  it  with  trembling-  fingers 
and  read : 

"  My  wife  died  this  morning.  JOHN." 

3 


26  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

"There  is  never  anything  right  with  the 
women  ;  that  one  never  had  any  flesh  or  bones ; 
that 's  what  comes  of  it,"  grumbled  the  old  man. 

"Who  is  dead?"  cried  his  wife,  entering  the 
room,  with  a  ponderous  pair  of  horn  spectacles 
on  her  nose. 

"Only  the  daughter-in-law,"  he  answered, 
roughly.  "The  messenger  brought  this  thing," 
pointing  to  the  paper  which  lay  carelessly  in 
Linnie's  lap. 

"Well,  we  haven't  lost  much,"  she  said, 
with  a  vilifying  air.  "She  was  to  blame  that 
John's  business  did  n't  go  on  better.  Of  her 
own  money  there  is  only  five  thousand  dollars, 
that—" 

"But  Dorothy  inherits  that,"  interrupted  old 
Hechterling  eagerly,  rubbing  his  great,  hairy 
hands. 

"Yes,  Dorothy  inherits  that  some  day,"  re- 
echoed the  wife;  "and  the  girl,  too,  amounts 
to  nothing.  She  takes  after  her  mother ;  she 
sha' n't  enter  this  house." 

"Merciful  God!"  exclaimed  Linnie,  springing 
up,  and  shaking  from  her  dress  the  threads  and 
ravelings  with  which  it  was  covered.  "I  can't 
remain  here  an.y  longer.  I  am  afraid  the  roof 
will  fall  upon  our  heads,  or  hell-fire  rise  from  be- 
neath our  feet.  You  are  speaking  of  your  own 
flesh  and  blood,  Frau  Hechterling,  the  only  and 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  27 

orphaned  child  that  God  has  given  you.  Her 
mother  is  dead,  and  you  refuse  the  little  one  a 
home.  Such  a  monstrous  act  has  never  been 
known  in  this  world  !" 

"You  are  rattle-brained  again,  Fraulein  Lin- 
nie, "  said  the  old  man.  "Just  you  sit  down 
and  get  my  gown  ready,  or  you  get  no  pay." 

A  scarcely  perceptible  smile  passed  over  the 
young  woman's  thin  lips.  She  sat  down,  after 
calmly  gathering  up  the  pieces  which  lay  scattered 
on  the  floor.  The  old  man  continued  : 

"We  have  been  very  much  opposed  to  each 
other,  and  now  she  will  have  to  hold  her  wicked 
tongue  ;  for  there  comes  an  end,  some  time,  to 
everything  in  life." 

"Yes,  there  is  an  end  to  everything,"  replied 
Linnie,  who  had  grown  pale  through  inward  ex- 
citement. "You  and  I  shall  also  have  an  end 
some  day — that  is  certain." 

The  young  servant-girl,  whose  eyes  were 
always  red  from  weeping,  not  long  afterward  came 
in  with  a  letter.  As  Frau  Hechterling  tore  open 
the  envelope,  she  said,  "This  is  from  John;" 
and,  although  Linnie  betrayed  no  curiosity,  the  old 
woman  began  to  read  it  in  a  loud  voice,  holding 
the  paper  at  a  long  distance  from  her  eyes,  mak- 
ing frequent  comments,  as  well  as  directing  her 
wicked,  flashing  glances  over  her  glasses  toward 
the  seamstress. 


28  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

BERLIN,  May  15,   1866. 

DEAR  PARENTS, — I  have  received  no  reply  from 
you  ["It  wasn't  intended  you  should,"  interjected  the 
reader],  although  I  wrote  to  you  several  weeks  ago  tnat 
circumstances  were  ill  with  us.  My  wife  grows  worse 
daily,  and  I  airi  not  well  myself.  I  make  every  effort  pos- 
sible in  my  business;  but,  in  spite  of  everything,  it  does 
not  prosper.  ["  That  kind  of  talk  is  no  good.  Six  times 
six  makes  thirty-six ;  let  the  man  be  ever  so  industrious, 
if  the  woman  is  lazy,  business  gets  behind,"  snapped  the 
mother].  I  do  not  know  why  it  is,  dear  parents,  that  no 
blessing  attends  us. 

Linnie  dropped  her  head.  She  had  also  turned 
away  her  face,  so  that  very  little  of  its  sincere 
and  sweet  expression  could  be  seen. 

"Ugh!  blesssing,"  continued  the  old  woman. 
"If  a  body  saves,  he  will  have.  Who  doesn't 
keep  a  tight  fist  over  the  pennies,  will  find  the 
mice  whistling  in  his  corn-loft."  She  resumed: 

The  doctor  and  medicine  have  cost  us  a  great  deal ; 
and  when  one  is  so  feeble  and  obliged  to  lie  in  bed  for 
weeks  at  a  time,  as  I  have  been,  leaving  everything  to 
clerks,  who  make  unreasonable  demands,  and  take  unfair 
advantages,  business  must  suffer.  Dear  parents,  you 
could  do  one  thing  for  me,  pay  my  honest  debts  and  as- 
sist me  with  a  loan  of  a  few  hundred  dollars.  Thank  God, 
you  have  it,  and  I  beg  you  to  accede  to  my  request. 
It  is  true  there  still  remains  five  thousand  dollars,  which 
my  wife  inherited  from  her  mother ;  but  we  dare  not 
touch  it,  as  the  grandmother  has  made  it  securely  over  to 
Dorothy,  and  we  have  only  the  interest,  which  is  small. 
Dorothy  was  the  idol  of  her  grandmother,  and  she  is,  in- 
deed, a  lovely  child.  When  she  recites  texts  and  beau- 
tiful hymns  (one  of  the  latter  containing  sixteen  verses) 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  29 

without  a  single  mistake,  so  sweetly,  our  eyes  fill  with  tears. 
She  is  our  comfort  in  misfortune,  and  we  could  never  give 
her  up  for  all  the  money  in  the  world.  ["  As  if  any  one 
would  be  such  a  fool  as  to  ask  for  her,"  supplemented  the 
reader].  My  wife's  dower  has  been  entirely  exhausted. 
I  can  lay  my  hand  upon  my  heart,  and  honestly  account 
for  every  dollar  of  it;  but  I  am  not  like  other  people,  and 
everything  goes  wrong  with  me.  ["  Dumb-head  !"  snarled 
the  mother].  I  have  no  longer  any  pleasure  in  business; 
nor,  in  fact,  in  anything  aside  from  little  Dorothy. 

Two  shimmering  pearls,  moist  and  warm,  fell 
from  Linnie's  eyes  upon  her  busy  fingers  and 
the  newly  repaired  sleeves  of  the  gown ;  but 
Frau  Hechterling  did  not  observe  them.  She 
continued : 

My  wife  will  never  be  well  again.  Once  she  nursed 
me  ;  now  it 's  my  office.  Who  would  ever  have  dreamed  it  ? 
And  I  am  not  strong.  I  make  her  bed  and  prepare  her 
tea ;  for  the  Berlin  girls  are  saucy,  and  will  not  work  for 
the  sick.  The  good  Lord  will  soon  take  her  to  himself; 
then  what  shall  little  Dorothy  and  I  do  ?  I  can  never 
allow  the  child  to  be  separated  from  me  ;  she  is  my  life. 
["  Lord !  no  one  wants  her,"  exclaimed  Frau  Hechter- 
ling, angrily.  "What's  the  use  of  a  thing  like  that  in 
the  world,  but  to  eat,  drink,  and  give  bother  ?  I  am 
mighty  glad  you  say  so."]  But,  dear  parents,  what  is  all 
this  to  result  in  ?  Do  try  to  help  me.  It  is  true  I  have  cost 
you  much,  but  I  am  not  to  blame.  I  sit  by  the  window, 
and  look  down  on  the  street  watching  for  the  postman  to 
bring  me  a  letter  from  you,  but  he  always  passes  by.  My 
creditors  press  me  hard.  I  pray  you  sincerely  to  believe 
me  your  obedient  son,  as  ever,  when  I  married  according 
to  your  own  wishes. 

Your  faithful,  devoted  son,    ! 

JOHN  HECHTERLING. 


30  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

"Well  that 's  a  great  deal  about  nothing," 
concluded  the  mother,  folding  up  the  letter  and 
shoving  it  into  her  capacious  pocket.  "I  can 
stick  that  behind  the  looking-glass,  for  it's  no  use. 
The  wife  is  dead  now,  and  you  may  settle  your 
affairs  at  Berlin,  for  all  me." 

A  sigh  of  relief  came  from  Linnie's  heart  when 
she  left  the  house  upon  the  completion  of  her 
work.  The  burden  and  heat  of  the  day  had 
passed;  the  noisy  roll  of  the  wagons  had  ceased. 
From  their  various  places  of  work  the  laborers 
were  returning  home,  begrimed  with  lime  and 
mortar.  Here  and  there,  as  in  the  morning,  were 
groups  of  men  in  earnest  conversation.  Linnie 
only  caught  stray  phrases,  such  as,  "Marching 
orders  are  here  already."  "They  say  the  fort, 
even,  will  be  solitary ;"  She  stopped  several 
times  and  wiped  her  brow.  Perhaps  the  exciting 
news  at  Hechterling's  had  also  affected  her. 
Finally,  when  she  reached  St.  James  Place,  and 
climbed  the  narrow  stair-way  leading  to  her  home, 
she  heard  from  afar  her  mother's  voice : 

"Are  you  here  at  last,  dear  Linnie?" 

"Yes,  mother,  thank  God!"  and  entering  the 
room,  she  kissed  the  invalid  tenderly. 

"I  have  ordered  the  supper  for  you,"  said 
the  old  woman,  triumphantly.  "  Frau  Miller 
did  n't  want  me  to,  but  I  beat  her  out  of  it.  It 
is  on  the  hearth,  and  must  be  warm  now — 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  31 

poached  eggs  and  bacon  in  thin  slices.  It  will 
do  you  good,  my  child." 

Linnie  removed  her  wraps,  brushed  them  care- 
fully, and  hung  them  in  the  spacious  closet ; 
then  lighted  the  lamp,  and  sitting  down,  ate 
with  relish,  smiling  with  appreciation  upon  the 
pleased  mother. 

"How  lovely  it  is  here!"  she  said.  "We 
can  look  far  away  over  the  roofs,  and  there  is 
nothing  over  us  but  the  sun,  moon,  and  stars. 
The  noises  from  the  street  do  not  reach  us,  neither 
does  the  dust  fly  so  high.  But  the  old  Hechter- 
lings  are  terrible  people ;  it  is  wretched  to  be  all 
day  with  them."  Whereupon  she  related  the 
incidents  of  the  afternoon. 

"Then,  after  all,  it  is  a  good  thing  you  did 
not  become  their  daughter  in-law ;  it  is  evident 
John  isn't  a  good  business  man,"  commented 
the  invalid. 

"Why  bring  that  up,"  said  Linnie,  "to  re- 
proach the  unfortunate?"  But  her  voice  was  so 
low  it  was  unintelligible.  After  a  pause  she  con- 
tinued, audibly:  "Everything  that  befalls  us,  if 
we  love  God,  must  be  for  the  best.  It  must, 
mother ;  only  we  do  n't  always  understand  it, 
and  do  n't  exercise  patience.  Let  me  read  to 
you  an  evening  hymn." 

"  Where  do  you  sew  to-morrow?" 

"At  General  Von  Geldern's.     Fraulein  Asta 


32  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

needs  a  new  spring  costume,  and  you  know 
waiting  is  not  \\erforte." 

"Yes,  she  must  always  be  adorned.  She  is 
young  and  rich,  and  annoys  you  with  her  airs 
and  pride." 

"No,  no,  mother;  I  love  little  Asta  as  if  she 
were  my  own  child.  Did  n't  I  make  all  her 
pretty  shirts  and  dresses  before  she  came  into 
the  world  ?  And  I  had  many  a  controversy  with 
her  ladyship,  who  insisted  upon  having  every- 
thing embroidered ;  and,  as  to  the  materials 
themselves,  nothing  was  left  undone,  whether 
the  baby  should  be  a  boy  or  a  girl.  How  long 
it  is  since  sh.e  was  laid  away  in  the  grave,  and 
since  Aunt  Mylitta  has.  taken  charge  of  the  little 
girl !  What  a  south  breeze  she  is  with  her  wavy, 
golden  locks !  But  give  me  the  hymn-book, 
mother ;  I  see  you  have  it  on  the  bed  beside  you." 

"Full  many  a  throb  of  grief  and  pain 

Thy  frail  and  erring  child  must  know ; 
But  not  one  prayer  is  breathed  in  vain, 
Nor  does  one  tear  unheeded  flow. 

Thy  various  messengers  employ, 

Thy  purposes  of  love  fulfill ; 
And  'mid  the  wreck  of  human  joy, 

Let  kneeling  faith  adore  Thy  will." 

These  were  the  concluding  verses  whose 
comforting  words  resounded  through  the  little 
mansard  room.  A  short  time  after,  nothing 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  33 

was  heard  there  but  the  soft  breathing  of  the 
sleeping  ones.  The  new  moon  stood  over  the 
church  and  looked  into  the  peaceful  place,  while 
a  nightingale  warbled  in  the  shrubbery  of  the 
fortress. 


' 


^s.       ^.  -^  -^ff    ^f,  -. 


z. 


^ 


II. 


"  'Tis  a  thing  impossible  to  frame 
Conceptions  equal  to  the  soul's  desires ; 
And  the  most  difficult  of  tasks  to  keep 
Heights  which  the  soul  is  competent  to  gain." 

— WORDSWORTH. 


next  morning  dawned  with  an  oppress- 
ive heat.  Nature  seemed  to  have  entered 
into  summer  with  one  bound,  without 
j|v  affording  the  earth  time  to  unfold  its 
May  splendor.  Linnie  walked  to-day  to- 
ward one  of  the  elegant  residences  situated  on 
the  corner  of  Victoria  Place,  from  which  point 
there  was  a  charming  view  of  the  Oder  and  the 
beautiful  meadows  that  skirted  the  wide  stream. 
Her  light  footsteps  were  unheard  upon  the  thick 
rugs  which  lay  on  the  staircase,  as  she  wended 
her  way  to  the  accustomed  work-room,  where  a 
fine  view  was  also  to  be  had  of  the  square  be- 
yond. She  always  enjoyed  sitting  by  this  win- 
dow, with  its  large  panes  of  glass,  to  watch  the 
vessels'  swelling  sails  upon  the  water,  accompa- 
nied by  the  clouds  of  heaven.  .But  she  was  not 
34 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  35 

long  so  engaged.  She  began  to  arrange  some 
paper  patterns,  taking  a  careful  stitch  here  and 
there,  when  Frederick,  the  old  family  butler, 
entered  with  coffee.  Its  delicious  aroma,  and  the 
accompanying  appetizing  rolls  and  thick  cream, 
were  enticing. 

"Good  morning,  Frederick,"  she  said. 
"How  do  you  do?  I  don't  see  any  one 
around." 

"Her  old  ladyship  has  headache,"  he  replied, 
mournfully;  "and  her  young  ladyship  is  ter- 
ribly out  of  sorts,  and  laments  enough  to  move 
the  heart  of  a  stone.  She  had  set  her  mind 
upon  a  trip  on  the  water,  and  when  she  sets  her 
mind  on  anything  it  has  to  be.  You  know  that 
very  well,  Fraulein  Linnie. " 

' '  You  also  have  the  same  wish,  I  think,  you 
look  so  cross." 

ra 

' '  Well,  whatever  goes  wrong  they  both  grum- 
ble, and  I  have  to  suffer  for  it,  There  goes  the 
bell  again !  A  body  needs  more  than  one  pair 
of  legs  to  keep  in  motion  so  constantly." 

"Don't  be  so  irritable,  Frederick;  it  doesn't 
become  you,"  said  Linnie,  with  an  admonitory 
gesture. 

"If  I  had  only  the  master  to  deal  with — he 
simply  orders  a  thing,  and  when  it  is  done,  there  's 
an  end.  But  the  women — there  is  always  some- 
thing wrong,  and  they  send  a  body  away,  and  he 


36  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

almost  breaks  his  neck  in  the  hurry  to  get  back, 
only  to  find  they  have  forgotten  the  chief  thing 
they  wanted.  It  is  hard  enough  to  serve,  and  it 
always  will  be.  I  won't  be  argued  out  of  that." 

"The  Son  of  God  came  not  to  be  ministered 
unto,  but  to  minister." 

"I  don't  know  anything  about  that,"  replied 
Frederick,  curtly. 

"Pity  for  you,"  added  Linnie.  "But  there 
is  the  bell  again,  and  I  must  not  keep  you  from 
your  duties.  I  will  take  the  breakfast-tray  down  ; 
you  need  not  trouble  about  it." 

Linnie  had  not  entirely  finished  her  coffee, 
when  the  folding-doors  of  the  adjoining  room 
opened  a  little  way,  and  the  fresh  though  some- 
what delicate  face  of  a  young  girl,  with  golden 
blonde  hair,  peeped  out.  Beaming  eyes,  which 
changed  color  constantly  in  their  laughing  liveli- 
ness, shone  beneath  a  beautiful  Grecian  forehead, 
full  of  natural  hauteur,  and  met  those  of  the 
seamstress.  Like  wavelets  and  ripples  struggling 
in  their  play  upon  the  surface  of  an  inwalled 
brook,  dancing  dimples  flitted  over  the  fair, 
round  cheeks,  which  were  lovely  in  the  glamour 
of  youth's  first  bloom.  Her  whole  personality 
harmonized  with  her  name — Asta,  a  star — at 
least  so  far  as  we  are  permitted  to  be  acquainted 
with  those  distant  luminaries ;  a  star  of  purity, 
beauty,  and  hope,  uplifted  far  above  the  dust  and 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  37 

worry  of  every-day  life ;  destined  to  lighten,  to 
cheer  wherever  her  steps  lay ;  destined  to  glisten 
as  the  proudest,  most  precious  jewel  in  the  heart 
of  a  brave  man. 

"Good  morning,  Linnie !"  cried  the  young 
girl,  who  was  now  in  the  center  of  the  room, 
standing  upon  a  pair  of  tiny  slippers,  and  wear- 
ing a  richly  embroidered  wrapper,  which  in- 
closed a  figure  of  medium  height.  "Do  you 
know  what  dreadful  thing  has  happened  ?  Now, 
immediately  after  luncheon  I  must  have  a  trip  on 
the  water.  I  have  been  longing  to  go  out  on 
the  lake  all  week,  terribly  longing ;  but  it  was 
always  'not  to-day,'  ' not  to-day, '  'still  too  cold.' 
But  they  can  't'say  that  now ;  such  a  day  as  this 
may  not  occur  soon  again.  And  only  look,  Lin- 
nie, how  the  flies  dance  out  in  the  sunshine ! 
And  yet  this  very  day,  this  lovely,  perfect  day, 
aunt  has  a  headache ;  and  her  headaches  always 
last  twenty-four  hours.  What 's  the  reason  I 
never  have  headaches?  How  can  people  have 
headache  so  often  ?  But  on  the  lake  I  must  go, 
whether  or  no !" 

"If  there  shall  always  be  a  'must,'  I  pity  the 
papa,"  replied  Linnie,  smiling. 

"Who  thinks  of  him?  Papa!  His  head  is 
too  full  of  war  duties.  He  says  it  would  be 
thoroughly  unpatriotic  to  think  of  a  water-party. 
And.  such  expressions  are  heard  everywhere. 


38  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

No  one  wishes  to  do  the  least  favor  for  me. 
But  on  the  lake  I  must  go.  What  shall  prevent 
me  from  having  war  thoughts  on  the  water?  I 
must  go.  I  shall  hear  nothing  there,  rowing  up 
and  down,  but  the  singing  of  the  reeds  and 
rushes  in  the  green  depths,  and  learn  more  there 
with  my  own  eyes  than  I  could  in  a  whole 
week  studying  Bcehm,  water-crabs,  beetles,  rails, 
etc.,  besides  make  a  collection  for  my  aquarium. 
But  O,  Linnie,  something  has  just  occurred  to 
me,"  she  said  suddenly,  in  a  very  strong  and 
altered  tone;  "you  must  accompany  me.  Who 
can  take  better  care  of  me  than  you?  or  keep 
me  from  tumbling  into  the  water,  like  a  child  ? 
And,  best  of  all,  you  won't  oppose  me  in  any- 
thing! With  your  kindly  eyes  you  will  look 
pleasant  when  I  fish,  while  Aunt  Mylitta  always 
begins  to  scream  when  I  catch  a  lizard  in  my 
net.  Yes,  yes,  that  is  it;  we  shall  go  together. 
I  will  go  in  and  tell  papa,  then  send  Frederick 
to  the  city  for  some  things  I  need  for  the 
journey." 

She  glided  out  of  the  room  on  dancing  feet 
so  quickly,  one  scarcely  knew  where  she  had 
alighted ;  but  it  was  only  a  few  minutes  before 
she  had  returned. 

"We  have  had  a  consultation  over  it,"  she 
said,  with  a  triumphant  smile  that  displayed  both 
rows  of  her  beautiful,  pearly  teeth.  "Aunt 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  39 

Mylitta  had  to  make  objections,  of  course ;  she 
can  be  so  intolerable  at  times — " 

"But,   Fraulein  Asta!"  remonstrated  Linnie. 

"No!  she  doesn't  hear  me,  and  I  always 
forgive  her;  indeed  I  do,  Linnie.  I  never  hold 
anger  against  any  one  in  my  heart.  As  to  papa, 
he  has  the  greatest  confidence  in  you.  '  She  is  a 
very  reliable  person,'  he  said,  'and  has  been  in 
and  out  of  our  house  for  twenty  years ;  let  the 
child  have  her  way,  Mylitta ;  then  we  shall  have 
peace.'  So  it  is  all  settled,  and  we  go!" 

The  seamstress  looked  upon  the  beautiful 
young  girl  as  upon  a  humming-bird,  which  gaily 
darts  among  the  open  calyxes,  willing  to  sip 
sweetness  every  hour  of  the  day.  O,  how  sin- 
cerely she  rejoiced  in  her  wealth,  her  purity,  her 
beauty,  and  happiness !  With  what  self-sacri- 
ficing submission  did  she  permit  a  modest  reflec- 
tion of  the  last  to  fall  upon  her  own  restricted 
way.  She,  too,  enjoyed  the  water,  and  never 
looked  upon  its  broad,  silver  surface  without  a 
little  sigh.  She  seldom  went  to  Gotzlow  even, 
and  Gotzlow  was  not  the  lake;  there  was  a 
wide  stretch  of  the  Oder  beyond,  bounded  by 
canals. 

Asta  went  to  her  room,  where  Linnie  soon 
followed  to  fit  a  lining.  It  was  such  a  boudoir 
as  only  a  wealthy  father's  tenderest  love  could 
furnish  for  an  only  and  darling  child. 


40  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

"Isn't  this  lovely?"  said  Asta,  looking  upon 
her  surroundings  with  happy  gaze.  "Only  that 
empty  aquarium  provokes  me ;  but  it  won't  be 
long  before  we  shall  have  it  in  order." 

"Do  you  think  it  fits  nicely?"  asked  Linnie, 
who  was  busy,  needle  in  hand,  shaping  the 
beautiful,  clinging  drapery  to  the  slender  form. 

"Very  nicely.  You  do  ever  so  much  better 
with  your  old  paper  patterns  than  that  arrogant 
modiste,  whom  auntie  and  I  are  obliged  to  super- 
intend all  day  long,  and  whom  we  shall  not  have 
again.  Do  you  not  like  my  flowers,  Linnie?" 

"Certainly  ;  and  I  am  delighted  to  see  how  well 
they  thrive.  I  am  almost  sorry  for  ladies  who 
receive  so  many  beautiful  flowers.  One  should 
only  have  a  few  plants,  I  think,  and  love  them  like 
brothers  and  sisters.  I  know  a  poor  tailor  who 
owns  a  huge  India-rubber  tree,  and  it  belongs  to 
every  member  of  his  family — so  much  so  that 
every  new  leaf  is  an  event  among  them." 

"How  lovely  that  is!"  replied  Asta.  "I  am 
like  that  tailor;  everything  pertaining  to  Flora 
attracts  me." 

"Do  you  mean  some  one  special  by  Flora, 
Fraulein  Asta?" 

"No,  everything  that  grows  and  blossoms; 
I  would  press  to  my  heart  every  tree  and  flower. 
A  wonderful  peace  and  serenity  encompasses 
me  when  I  indulge  myself  among  them.  I 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  41 

breathe  their  fresh,  rich  odor  with  perfect  de- 
light. I  should  like  to  build  an  arbor  and  spend 
my  life  among  the  bluebottles  and  gay  butterflies  ; 
therefore  must  I  go  out  to-day,  to  see  how  beau- 
tiful the  world  is.  Do  you  not  feel  so?" 

"I  rejoice  with  all  my  heart  in  the  Lord's 
works.  He  seems  nearer,  and  I  hear  his  foot- 
steps more  plainly  in  the  green  solitude.  But 
he  also  comes  through  walls  and  stone  to  the 
little  mansard  room,  and  brings  to  me  eternal 
spring." 

The  young  girl's  large,  brilliant  eyes  rested 
upon  the  seamstress,  who  was  now  kneeling  be- 
fore her  in  order  to  mark  the  new  garment's 
length  by  careful  basting.  She  raised  her  gentle 
face  and  added  :  ' '  Do  you  know  the  promise,  '  I 
will  come  again  and  prepare  a  place  for  you  ?'  " 

"No,  Linnie,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  I  do  not.  Is 
it  in  the  Bible?" 

"Yes;  you  will  find  it  in  the  Gospel  of  St. 
John,  fourteenth  chapter  and  twenty-third  verse. 
I  often  repeat  it  aloud  when  I  am  at  work ;  then 
my  little  room  becomes  glorified,  and  I  am  no 
longer  a  poor,  old  seamstress,  but,  by  His  grace, 
an  heir  of  eternal  blessedness.  I  feel  so 'con- 
tented with  everything,  and  even  more  than  I 
rejoice  in  this  beautiful  spring  do  I  exult  over 
the  prospect  of  my  death." 

Asta  was  silent.  She  looked  away  from  the 
4 


42  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

speaker  out  of  the  window  ;    and  now  her  eyes 
seemed  very  dark. 

Such  conversations  were  quite  usual  between 
the  two.  They  had  grown  gradually  from  an  inter- 
course of  many  years,  had  taken  root,  entwined 
around  both  hearts,  imperceptibly  drawn  them 
together,  and  made  them  singularly  congenial  to 
each  other.  The  difference  in  position,  wealth, 
and  years,  each  of  which  so  often  separates  widely 
the  children  of  Adam  and  Eve,  was  unmarked 
between  these  two,  although  the  distinction  was 
never  forgotten  by  Linnie.  Asta  was  always 
the  rich,  aristocratic  daughter  of  an  officer  of 
high  rank,  while  her  companion  remained  the 
seamstress;  and  so  much  a  seamstress  that  she 
was  universally  designated  by  a  circle  in  the  old 
commercial  city  "the  Seamstress  of  Stettin" — 
all  of  which  title  she  had  naturally  and  thoroughly 
made  for  herself.  ' 

Soon  after  two  o'clock  a  carriage  drove  up  to 
the  door  of  the  elegant  mansion  on  Victoria 
Place.  Asta  and  Linnie  took  seats  therein, 
and  Frederick,  carrying  two  handsome  baskets, 
swung  himself  on  the  box,  to  accompany  his 
charming  mistress  and  her  companion  to  the 
steamboat.  The  quay,  which  extends  along  the 
Oder  the  entire  length  of  the  city,  was  crowded 
with  people,  all  engaged  busily ;  bustling  and 
pushing  one  another,  often  rudely,  from  side  to 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  43 

side.  The  edifices  fronting  the  water  were,  for 
the  most  part,  very  fine  structures — such  as 
hotels  and  private  residences.  But  there  were 
also  found  there  small,  plain  houses,  gray  with 
age ;  venerable  relics  of  a  long  past  time,  with 
high  gables  and  tall,  narrow  windows ;  besides 
restaurants  for  the  lowest  class,  and  shops  over- 
flowing with  all  kinds  of  second  hand  goods,  as 
well  as  the  coarse,  showy  merchandise  attractive 
to  sailors  going  and  coming  to  and  from  the 
various  European  ports.  Innumerable  ships  lay 
indolently  at  anchor,  or  moved  with  majestic 
gravity  up  and  down  the  stream.  Just  now  a 
large  steamboat  drew  its  broadside  to  tire  land- 
ing;  and  a  few  minutes  later  Asta  and  Linnie 
were  upon  the  deck,  Frederick  following  with 
the  baskets  and  wraps. 

"See  to  my  books  and  jars,"  exclaimed  Asta, 
joyously,  "and  be  sure  there  is  everything  we 
shall  need.  Papa  has  sent  me  the  loveliest  net; 
in  the  other  basket  are  all  kinds  of  tarts  and  good 
things.  Good  bye,  Frederick  !  Do  n't  come  too 
soon  for  us.  Now  we  begin  our  journey.  In 
half  an  hour  we  shall  be  at  Gotzlow. " 

Meanwhile  they  have  arrived,  and  the  steamer 
has  left  them  to  select  some  one  to  manage 
their  skiff!  He  was  an  elderly,  trustworthy, 
and  experienced  man.  Under  the  swift,  strong 
strokes  of  his  brawny  arms  the  little  boat  cut 


44  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

obliquely  the  stream's  noble  current,  and  entered 
a  comparatively  small  canal.  At  first  the  banks 
were  bare  and  dry,  but  soon  walls  of  reeds  and 
rushes  appeared,  through  which  the  sighing  winds 
sang  an  accompaniment  to  the  boatman's  regular 
rowing,  in  soft,  melancholy  strains.  Both  sides 
of  the  stream  were  adorned  with  water-plants, 
whose  leaves  swung  lightly  from  the  stalks,  or 
were  fashioned  in  fantastic  notches,  forming 
around  the  boat's  keel  a  living  garland  in  the 
brown,  limpid  depths ;  in  the  midst  of  which 
water-bugs  and  spiders  darted  like  sparks  of 
silver  lightning.  Farther  on  great  beetles  were 
at  work,  and  snails  of  every  kind  clung  to  the 
tender  branches  and  twigs  with  their  sucking 
mouths. 

Softly  gliding  along,  the  solitude  became  more 
and  more  intense,  and  the  verdure  more  abun- 
dant. There  was  now  not  only  the  waving  reeds, 
but  the  osier,  overladen  with  its  yellow  tassels, 
hiding  from  the  world  the  golden  pollen  through 
which  the  bee  rummaged,  accompanied  by 
newly  fledged  butterflies  hovering  around  the 
honeyed  cells. 

"How  beautiful  it  is  here!"  said  Linnie.. 

Asta  now  threw  out  her  net,  the  boatman 
kindly  helping  her  to  draw  it  in  and  secure,  as 
well  as  sift,  its  contents.  They  had  captured  all 
sorts  of  pretty  little  fish,  partly  carp  and  pike; 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  45 

the  former  glistening  in  their  coats  of  dark  violet 
blue,  the  latter  in  splendid  red  and  green. 

"Sticklebacks  in  their  spring  gowns!"  ex- 
claimed Asta,  enthusiastically;  "one  of  the 
most  interesting  fishes  we  have.  He  builds  his 
nest  and  guards  his  young." 

"Would  your  ladyship  also  like  a  water- 
spider?  They  always  carry  a  pearl,"  said  the 
man,  who  evidently  enjoyed  her  appreciation. 

"Certainly,  certainly!  The  pearl  is  an  air- 
bubble  which  she  makes  when  she  plunges  into 
the  water,  then  weaves  around  it  a  diver's  bell 
with  her  thread,  in  which  she  lives.  No  nymph 
can  have  a  more  crystalline  palace.  That  is  the 
poetry  of  nature,  Linnie;  I  got  it  out  of  books  ;" 
and  continuing,  gaily,  "I  must  take  home 
several  of  these  little  tadpoles,  in  order  to  watch 
their  development  into  frogs." 

"That  can  not  be  done,"  interposed  the  mat- 
ter-of-fact boatman.  "A  gold-fish  may  be  kept 
lively  in  confinement,  but  tadpoles  die  in  cap- 
tivity. They  are  nothing  but  toads,  but  they 
will  have  their  rights." 

"A  parrot  may  be  more  easily  trained  than 
a  young  sparrow,"  added  Linnie.  "There  is 
nothing  common  before  God ;  therefore  the  day- 
laborer  and  the  seamstress  may  trust  him." 

It  was  not  long  before  Asta  had  filled  her  jars. 
She  washed  her  hands  from  the  water  that 


46  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

dripped  from  the  boat's  keel,  and  wiped  them 
with  her  point-lace  handkerchief.  Her  hat  was 
decorated  with  a  garland  of  daisies,  primroses, 
and  grasses,  which  had  been  seized  from  the 
banks  in  passing. 

The  canal  was  now  wider,  the  bed  of  reeds 
dividing  on  both  sides.  A  broad  expanse  of 
water  became  visible,  upon  which  they  wished 
to  row.  There  was  a  sudden  rustling  and  snap- 
ping amid  the  rushes,  which  attracted  their  atten- 
tion. The  rushes  grew  here  to  an  enormous 
height,  and  between  their  thick  stems  open 
channels  had  been  made  like  foot-paths  in  a 
forest.  The  prow  of  a  boat  was  observed  work- 
ing its  way  through,  the  oars  handled  by  a  young 
man,  who  wore  the  uniform  of  the  king's  regi- 
ment, at  that  time  stationed  at  Stettin.  In  the 
rear  of  the  boat  an  officer  sat,  skillfully  directing 
the  rudder.  The  two  boats  approached  so  closely 
and  unexpectedly  there  might  have  been  dan- 
ger of  collision,  had  not  the  captain,  by  a  quick 
movement,  turned  out  of  the  way.  He  raised 
his  head,  which  was  covered  by  a  small,  light, 
fatigue-cap,  whose  gay  color  set  off  to  fine  ad- 
vantage the  dark  hair  and  bronzed  face.  It  was 
a  handsome,  open  countenance ;  but  when  the 
glance  rested  upon  Asta  it  wore  a  serious,  ear- 
nest expression.  He  saluted  her  with  a  hesi- 
tating bow,  that  especially  astonished  the  seam- 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  47 

stress ;  but  Asta  had  turned  her  head  aside 
so  haughtily  that  her  acknowledgment  seemed 
almost  discourteous. 

Linnie  was  puzzled ;  but  very  soon  a  wide 
distance  lay  between  them  and  the  captain  and 
his  attendant ;  for  the  former  were  now  out  upon 
the  open  water,  while  the  latter's  course  was 
directed  to  the  canal. 

At  this  juncture  the  sturdy  boatman  straight- 
ened himself  proudly,  and  gazing  beyond  the 
rudder,  said:  "Yonder  is  my  home,  your  lady- 
ship. Do  you  see  just  behind  that  black  point  ? 
I  was  born  on  that  island,  and  my  brother  still 
resides  there.  He  is  a  fisherman,  and  has  a  little 
home  of  his  own,  while  I  work  among  the  ships 
on  the  water.  He  is  the  eldest  of  us,  and  to 
be  envied  for  having  house  and  lands ;  but  he 
has  to  pay  us,  which  he  does  n't  like  to  do." 

The  land  was  extensive  here,  and  the  water 
swept  around  it  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  dark 
green  in  color,  ruffled  by  a  delightful,  gentle 
breeze — a  miniature  lake,  clear  as  crystal,  spread 
before  them,  as  charming  as  it  appeared  marvelous. 

"Are  there  any  more  such  islands  in  the 
lake?"  inquired  Asta. 

"Yes,  indeed,  and  I  know  them  every  one, " 
replied  the  boatman.  "I  was  only  ten  years 
old  when  I  searched  over  them  for  plovers'  eggs. 
One  gets  well  paid  for  them." 


48  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

"I  wish  you  would  take  us  to  the  most 
unfrequented  island,  where  we  can  get  out  of  the 
boat  and  spend  an  hour  or  two.  It  must  be  a 
small  one,  though,  and  very  beautiful,  with  rocks 
where  we  can  sit  down." 

The  man  smiled. 

"Why  must  it  be  so  particularly  beautiful, 
Fraulein  Asta  ?"  said  Linnie. 

"  Because  I  should  like  to  experience  the  sen- 
sation of  a  shipwreck  a  la  Robinson  Crusoe  with 
you.  We  will  serve  our  tarts  and  jelly  on  the 
warm  sand,  and  while  the  breezes  lull  us  to 
slumber  I  will  read  to  you  from  the  '  Frithiof 
Tales.'  I  have  not  had  an  afternoon  like  this  for 
a  long  while,  and  it  will  be  all  the  more  delight- 
ful if  everything  shall  happen  just  as  I  antici- 
pated. And  it  must  do  so !" 

"  Ah,  my  dear,  dear  Fraulein  Asta,  you  often 
make  me  tremble  with  your  'musts,'"  interposed 
the  seamstress. 

"Why?  Why  shouldn't  my  life  grow  more 
and  more  splendid  ?  I  have  found  its  beginning 
so,  and  all  the  way  along,  thus  far." 

"Fraulein  Asta,  who  was  that  gentleman 
you  greeted  so  ungraciously?  I  mean  the  mili- 
tary captain  we  passed  a  short  time  ago." 

"Who,  Linnie?"  and  the  laughing  young  face 
became  instantly  clouded.  "That  is  Councilor 
Elmbach's  son."  Significantly  nodding  to  the 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  49 

seamstress,  she  whispered  lightly  in  her  ear: 
"A  very  low  family.  Papa  becomes  furious  at 
the  very  mention  of  their  name,  and  upon  his 
forehead  a  thick  vein  swells  out.  I  call  this 
vein  the  blue  snake ;  but,  thank  goodness,  it 
does  n'*  appear  very  often,  only  when  he  is  very 
angry.  Then  he  is  like  a  black  lion  from  Bar- 
bary.  You  know,  Linnie,  the  black  lions  are 
much  worse  than  the  yellow !  As  for  myself 
I  have  inherited  a  horror  of  the  Elmbachs. 
When  I  came  in  contact  with  this  one  a  shudder 
passed  over  me.  That  is  because  I  sympathize 
thoroughly  with  my  splendid  father  in  every- 
thing. Whenever  any  one  mentions  the  name 
Elmbach  his  forehead  begins  to  wrinkle,  the 
blue  snake  makes  its  appearance,  and  the  lion 
shakes  his  mane,  ready  to  spring !  Then  I  shake 
my  mane,  too,  of  course !" 

Linnie  was  silent.  "Is  this  the  island?"  she 
asked  the  boatman,  after  a  pause. 

They  were  soon  beside  a  small  islet,  scarcely 
more  than  three  hundred  feet  in  circumference. 
For  the  most  part  covered  with  dry,  yellow 
sand,  it  lay  in  sweet  repose,  surrounded  by  the 
blue  surface  of  the  lake,  bathed  in  warm  sun- 
beams. Whether  it  was  of  Vulcan  or  Neptune 
origin,  a  less  skillful  oarsman  might  have  expe- 
rienced difficulty  in  effecting  a  landing,  as  steep, 
mountainous  cones  arose  from  the  alluvium  depths 
5 


50  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

of  the  water  basin,  nearly  to  the  single  place 
where  a  great,  flat,  projecting  stone  formed  an 
entrance.  Here  the  water  was  so  deep  and  clear 
one  could  see  the  fishes  at  play  in  it.  A  few 
ancient  and  lofty  willows  stood  in  picturesque 
irregularity  upon  the  center  of  the  islet,  their 
silver-gray  tops  heavily  laden  with  vines,  in 
which  innumerable  birds  found  pleasant  dwell- 
ing-places ;  whence  they  greeted  the  travelers 
with  loud  twittering.  Beneath  these  trees,  and 
near  the  bank,  lay  rocks  of  all  sizes. 

"Ah,  this  is  just  what  I  like!"  exclaimed 
Asta  with  delight,  bounding  over  the  plank  as 
soon  as  the  bow  of  the  boat  was  steady  upon 
the  shore.  The  seamstress  followed  somewhat 
thoughtfully,  while  the  boatman  carried  the  bas- 
kets and  wraps. 

"There  comes  another  boat,"  continued  the 
young  girl ;  ' '  only  look  how  fast  it  plows  through 
the  waves.  It  has  a  sail  up,  and  is  steering 
directly  toward  us." 

"Ahoy!"  cried  the  boatman,  making  a  speak- 
ing-trumpet of  his  hands.  "Ahoy,  there!  It 
is  my  brother  Hermann,"  he  added.  "  If  you 
really  wish  to  remain  here  an  hour  or  so,  your 
ladyship,  I  will  step  in  his  boat  and  take  a  short 
ride  with  him.  One  has  so  many  things  to  talk 
about ;  but  I  have  my  watch,  and  if  you  will  fix 
a  time  I  shall  be  here  promptly." 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  51 

"You  will  not  be  needed  before  five  o'clock," 
replied  Asta.  "Then  we  shall  reach  Gotzlow  at 
half  past  seven.  Let  him  go,  Linnie, "  she 
said,  entreatingly,  as  the  latter  was  inclined  to 
make  objections  ;  "  it  will  be  so  much  more  pleas- 
ant alone,  and  we  wish  to  enjoy  still  life  on 
this  islet." 

The  fisherman  Hermann  was  now  alongside, 
our  traveler's  little  craft  was  secured  to  the  shore, 
and  they  were  soon  alone.  It  was  very  ro- 
mantic. Asta  covered  a  large,  flat  rock,  and 
revealed  unexpected  treasures  from  the  capa- 
cious lunch-basket,  which  were  heartily  partaken 
of  and  enjoyed.  A  tour  of  the  islet  was  then 
made,  and  two  especially  comfortable  rocks  on 
the  edge  of  the  water  encountered,  upon  which 
to  rest.  The  spot  was  directly  opposite  to  the 
place  of  landing,  and  hidden  from  view  by  the 
long-reaching  branches  of  the  willows.  They 
spread  out  the  blankets  and  wraps,  then  half 
reclined,  while  Linnie  busied  herself  with  some 
pretty  knitting-work,  and  Asta  read  aloud  from 
the  "Frithiof  Tales." 

The  book  was  in  harmony  with  the  surround- 
ings ;  there  was  so  much  of  clouds  and  winds 
and  waves,  that  one  beheld  the  reality,  all  the 
more  lovely  as  the  musical  strophes  flowed  from 
the  beautiful  reader's  lips. 

"How  any  one  can  make  so  much  of  love 


52  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

is  incomprehensible  to  me,"  said  Asta,  when 
she  had  ended  "  Ingeborg's  Lament,"  laying  the 
book  on  her  lap.  "It  must  be  very  humiliating 
to  acknowledge  a  master's  sovereignty  over  an 
involuntary  slave.  I  fear  this  would  never  be 
possible  to  me." 

"I  fear  very  much  the  contrary  for  you," 
replied  Linnie,  somewhat  timidly;  "especially 
when  you  always  say  'it  must  be.'  You  dear, 
dear  girl,  the  Lord  does  n't  always  do  as  we 
think,  but  his  thoughts  are  as  much  higher  than 
ours  as  the  heavens  are  above  the  earth." 

"Linnie,  I  don't  care  to  hear  any  more 
about  Ingeborg.  She  only  existed  in  a  poet's 
brain.  I  told  you  an  hour  ago  that  I  prefer 
living  poetry ;  the  one  is  a  real  flower,  the  other 
artificial.  Both  are  beautiful,  but  the  sweet  odor 
comes  to  me  only  from  the  living  calyx.  You, 
dear,  good  Linnie,  you  are  poetry!  Yes;  don't 
shake  your  head.  The  time  has  come  when  you 
must  confide  in  me ;  and  we  could  not  be  more 
alone,  more  undisturbed  than  here.  Tell  me 
about  your  youth.  You  were  an  attractive  girl, 
you  have  been  loved,  and  you  promised  I  should 
know  all  about  it." 

"  If  I  do  so,"  replied  the  seamstress,  "it  will 
be  that  you  may  learn  something  of  the  '  it  must 
be,"  which  always  grieves  me  when  I  hear  it. 
But  my  story  is  not  romantic ;  on  the  contrary, 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  53 

it  is  very  prosaic.  My  father  left  a  small  for- 
tune, which  I  inherited.  I  was  considered  quite 
rich  for  my  class,  as  we  did  not  need  so  much  in 
those  days  as  you  do  now,  Fraulein  Asta.  I 
lived  with  my  mother  at  Grlinhof,  and  we  had  a 
'garden  in  the  rear  of  our  dwelling,  which  was  sep- 
arated from  a  neighbor's  by  a  hedge.  This 
neighbor  was  a  butcher,  whose  only  son  John 
cared  for  the  vegetables  which  they  cultivated. 
They  were  hard,  godless  people,  and  extremely 
miserly,  but  their  son  was  so  unlike  them  it  was 
difficult  to  believe  he  belonged  to  them.  How- 
ever, he  remained  at  home,  and  was  a  quiet, 
unassuming  young  man.  But  his  very  amiability 
caused  the  parents'  hands  to  rest  heavily  upon 
him.  They  compelled  him,  against  his  very 
being,  to  participate  in  the"ir  business,  as  he  did 
not  dare  to  oppose  their  wishes.  We  also  culti- 
vated vegetables  ;  but  flowers  grew  among  them  ; 
and  when  I  rejoiced  in  their  bloom,  seated  in 
the  arbor  with  my  needle-work  during  the  beau- 
tiful summer  afternoons,  John  would  come  out 
into  his  own  garden  with  a  guitar,  and  sing  be- 
neath the  apple-tree ;  for  he  had  a  lovely  voice. 
Upon  one  occasion  he  sang  softly : 

'  "  Good  day  !     Good  day,  sir  gardener ; 

Some  lavender,  have  you  ? 
And  have  you  rosemary  and  thyme  ? 
A  little  betony  too  ?" 


54  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

"O  yes,  dear  miss,  I  have  all  that 

In  this  fine  garden  here ; 
If  you  will  kindly  wait  awhile, 
I  '11  have  them — never  fear." 

Then  the  young  gardener  went  out, 

And  searching  everywhere, 
His  eyes  went  gazing  longingly 

Upon  the  maiden  fair. 

He  wove  sweet  flowers  in  a  wreath, 

Found  violets,  deep  blue, 
To  say  the  love  of  his  poor  heart 
*  Was  tender,  fond,  and  true. 

And  lilies,  purest  in  their  bloom, 

He  scattered  here  and  there  ; 
A  cypress  branch  he  intertwined 

With  true  love's  patient  care." 

"I  can  not  recall  any  more  of  the  song,  but 
it  touched  me  deeply  ;  for  the  melody  was  quaint 
and  sweet,  and  brought  tears  to  my  eyes.  The 
following  morning  he  called  upon  me,  wearing  a 
white  vest,  and  carrying  a  large  wreath  com- 
posed of  love  flowers.  He  was  very  pale,  and 
his  sincere  eyes  were  downcast,  as  though  he 
had  committed  a  wrong.  When  we  were  alone 
he  asked  me  to  be  his  wife.  I  replied,  'If  God 
will;'  for  see,  Fraulein  Asta,  although  I  did  not 
know  much  of  a  Savior's  love  at  that  time,  I 
reverenced  God.  Everything  was  happy  about 
me,  and  the  cross  was  disregarded.  I  was  a 
Christian  only  s&  far  as  I  believed  it  to  be  an 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  55 

easy,  pleasant  life.  We  were  betrothed  two 
years.  It  was  spring  all  the  year  round  with  us. 
John  became  rosy  and  bright.  I  loved  him  de- 
votedly, for  he  was  pure  gold ;  and  the  longer  I 
knew  him,  the  more  this  was  apparent." 

"Then,  why  are  you  not  married?"  inter- 
rupted Asta,  whose  lovely  eyes  now  rested  upon 
her  companion's  sunken  cheeks  with  a  troubled 
expression.  "Did  he  die,  this  beloved  John?" 

Linnie  shook  her  head.  After  a  pause  she 
continued : 

"  We  began  to, prepare  the  wedding  trousseau, 
when  suddenly  the  news  arrived  that  my  fortune, 
which  my  father  had  intrusted  to  a  large  mer- 
chant, had  been  lost,  and  I  was  as  poor  as  a 
church-mouse.  Of  course  John's  parents  at  once 
opposed  the  union,  and  the  poor  youth  was 
forced  to  obey,  as  he  had  nothing  in  the  world. 
They  sent  him  off  to  travel,  and  when  he  returned 
they  married  him  to  a  Berlin  maiden,  and  estab- 
lished him  there  in  business.  His  journey  had 
evidently  been  of  little  benefit ;  for  he  returned 
as  pale  as  he  had  been  in  childhood.  So  it 
happened,  and  you  see  it  avails  very  little  when 
we  say,  'I  think  so  and  so;'  or,  'I  will  not  have 
it  so  ;'  or,  '  It  must  be.'  All  that  doesn't  help  a 
hair's-breadth. " 

"What  did  you  do  then,  you  dear,  good 
Linnie?"  exclaimed  Asta,  very  rebelliously. 


56  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

"I  took  up  my  cross  and  carried  it,"  replied 
the  seamstress,  cheerfully.  She  had  folded  her 
hands  in  her  lap. 

Asta  was  silent. 

"Do  you  know  the  words:  'Yea,  Father 
yea;  lay  it  even  on  my  heart's  core,  and  I  will 
bear  it?'  One  learns  to  say  them  under  such 
circumstances." 

"They  express  a  beautiful  sentiment,"  replied 
Asta.  "But  you  must  not  be  offended  if  I  say 
it  would  have  pleased  me  far  better  if  your  dear 
John  had  wholly  ignored  their  wishes,  burned 
the  old  butcher  in  his  skin,  and  rescued  his  Lin- 
nie  in  the  storm.  Yes,  that  would  have  pleased 
me  infinitely  better." 

"I  believe  you,"  responded  the  seamstress, 
with  a  melancholy  smile;  "and  that  is  why  I 
have  related  my  history.  It  might  have  been 
successful  with  most  people,  but  not  with  these. 
They  are  harder  than  flint;  and  the  fates  often 
appear  so  to  human  beings.  But  be  assured, 
it  is  no  blind  fatality,  as  men  are  wont  to  call 
it,  but  diamonds  thrown  in  our  pathway,  upon 
which  the  sinful  heart  is  broken,  and  should 
break ;  for  the  end  thereof  is  always  peace 
and  joy.'' 

"How  pale  you  look,  my  good  Linnie !  I 
will  run  and  get  you  something."  Thereupon 
she  sprang  up  and  off. 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  57 

Linnie  remained  seated  on  the  rock,  in  deep 
reverie. 

Asta  found  the  opposite  side  of  the  islet 
wondrously  beautiful.  The  waves  beat  upon 
the  shore  in  mournful  cadence,  while  over  the 
lake's  snowy  surface  a  heron  dipped  his  beak, 
sparkling  like  silver  in  the  sunshine.  Suddenly 
Asta  was  seized  with  an  overwhelming  but  un- 
fortunate desire.  She  would  unfasten  the  boat 
from  its  moorings,  row  the  little  craft  around  the 
islet,  and  carry  to  Linnie  the  promised  refresh- 
ment by  water.  It  looked  very  easy.  Surely  a 
few  quick  strokes  of  the  oar  would  accomplish  it. 
As  the  boat  proved  to  have  been  very  insuf- 
ficiently secured  she  soon  succeeded  in  her  pur- 
pose. Standing-  upright,  she  steadied  herself  in 
the  center  of  the  boat,  and  pushed  off  shore 
with  an  easy  jerk,  gliding  into  the  water  as  lightly 
and  smoothly  as  a  nutshell.  But  it  was  not  so 
easily  managed  as  she  had  imagined.  In  every 
lake  there  are  currents  which  are  not  discerned. 
An  undertow  is  frequently  strong  enough  to 
carry  with  it  small  craft.  Such  a  one  caught 
Asta's  bark.  She  would  now  have  preferred  to 
return,  but  did  not  know  how,  as  the  water 
seemed  to-  be  constantly  opposing  her  efforts, 
and  drifting  her  farther  and  farther  away.  The 
situation,  at  first  alarming,  became  critical,  and 
the  terror  which  took  possession  of  her  caused 


58  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

her  to  make  violent  movements  that  strongly  vacil- 
lated the  narrow  boat. 

Linnie  heard  a  feeble  cry,  as  of  some  one 
calling  her  name.  It  aroused  her ;  and  at  once 
the  thought,  "  Where  is  Asta  so  long?"  obtained 
supremacy.  Like  a  frightened  bird  she  flew 
across  the  islet  to  the  landing.  The  water  soon 
became  an  insurmountable  hindrance  to  further 
pursuit.  Asta  was  not  on  the  land ;  but  yon- 
der— O  God ! — there  was  an  upturned  boat 
upon  which  two  hands  were  clasped  ;  yonder  a 
blonde  head  surging  to  and  fro  in  the  billows, 
and  around  it  the  deep,  fathomless,  awful  abyss 
of  death,  over  which  this  young  life  hung  like  a 
broken  flower !  Every  glance  tore  her  soul  with 
anguish.  Her  first  impulse  was  to  spring  in 
after  her;  but  she  was  unable  to  swim, — how 
could  she  render  help  ?  Before  her  mind's  eye 
stood  the  image  of  a  crippled  old  woman  reach- 
ing forth  her  poor,  helpless  arms  to  an  only 
daughter.  She  flew  back  to  the  highest  point 
of  land,  scanning  the  lake  in  every  direction ; 
then  she  uttered  a  piercing  shriek. 

"Was  that  a  sea-gull?"  said  the  captain  to 
his  attendant,  as  they  were  floating  around  at 
some  distance  away.  "There  it  is  again, — that  is 
a  cry  of  distress !  yonder,  Fred !  row  for  your 
life,  man!"  The  boat  flew  over  the  water  with 
wings  of  wind. 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  59 

"Not  to  the  islet,  sir.  See!  yonder  is  a 
boat  on  whose  keel  a  girl  is  clinging;  do  you 
not  see  it?" 

Yes,  he  saw  it,  and  the  impatience  to  reach 
it  almost  unnerved  him.  Every  drop  of  blood 
in  his  veins  was  like  coals  of  fire.  Ah !  not 
even  a  hero  aglow  with  honor  for  his  country, 
before  the  observant  eyes  of  thousands,  ever 
made  more  desperate  efforts  than  he.  The  spot 
was  almost  reached ;  but  his  endeavors  had  been 
vain.  The  little  white  hands  had  lost  their  hold, 
the  fingers  their  grasp.  Once  more  she  looked 
up  to  the  vast  blue  overhead ;  then  the  star 
sank,  and  the  waves  closed  over  the  beautiful 
young  head  with  its  golden  locks. 

"Asta!  Asta!"  was  the  bitter  wailing  which 
re-echoed  over  the  islet 

The  seamstress  was  on  her  knees,  beneath  the 
willows,  crying  for  help  to  Him  from  whom, 
alone,  help  was  possible. 

The  captain  threw  off  his  coat  in  a  trice. 
Only  an  incredibly  brief  space  of  time  intervened 
until  the  tall  military  form  had  plunged  boldly 
into  the  water,  as  if  he  would  cut  his  way  to  the 
perishing  one  to  its  very  depths.  An  expert  diver, 
his  broad  chest  was  seen  from  time  to  time  ris- 
ing to  the  surface  for  air.  He  waged  a  terrible 
war.  At  first  he  was  unable  to  find  her ;  and 
when  she  was- discovered,  she  clung,  half-uncon- 


60  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

scious,  so  strongly  to  her  supporter  it  seemed  as 
though  both  should  be  drawn  down  to  death. 
At  length,  by  dint  of  almost  superhuman  strength 
and  skill,  he  unclasped  her  arms,  and  brought  her 
aloft,  after  she  had  sunken  three  times.  Blood 
started  from  his  nostrils  and  mouth  when  his 
attendant  brought  aid.  Bending  far  over  the 
boat,  he  seized  his  master,  clutched  at  the  same 
time  the  girl's  clothing,  and  thus  achieved  the 
final  rescue.  Asta  lay  in  the  boat  helpless, 
while  the  captain  raised  her  head.  His  bosom 
heaved,  water  dripped  from  hair  and  beard, 
while  his  bleeding  lips,  bitten  in  the  fearful 
struggle,  grew  as  colorless  as  his  face. 

"Sir  Captain,  she  is  dead,"  moaned  the 
assistant,  weeping  with  excitement;  "there  is  no 
breath  in  her  body." 

He  was  unable  as  yet  to  reply ;  he  merely 
shook  his  head.  He  had  been  too  familiar  with 
death  not  to  know  that  she  was  simply  uncon- 
scious. They  reached  the  islet,  where  Linnie 
applied  restoratives  with  speedy  success.  Asta 
soon  revived,  and  her  brave  rescuer  modsstly 
stepped  aside,  after  protecting  her  from  the  first 
violent  chill  with  coverings.  The  boatman  then 
made  his  appearance  with  the  fisherman,  and 
after  a  short  consultation,  all  entered  the  large 
boat  and  started  directly  for  Gotzlow. 

It  was  quite  dark  when  they  reached  there. 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  61 

No  one  had  spoken  a  word  on  the  way.  Asta, 
completely  exhausted,  reclined  in  Linnie's  arms. 
The  captain  withdrew  to  the  farthest  corner.  At 
Gotzlow  they  found  it  necessary  to  obtain  dry 
garments,  as  well  as  warm  food,  at  the  hotel. 
When  Linnie  looked  for  the  captain  he  had  dis 
appeared,  and  she  was  informed  that  he  had  im- 
mediately started  for  Stettin.  The  last  steamer 
left  at  ten  o'clock,  as  Linnie  and  Asta  were  well 
aware,  and  although  the  latter  was  able  to  smile 
again,  she  began  to  feel  some  misgivings  on 
account  of  the  "Black  Lion  of  Barbary." 

The  seamstress  undertook  to  explain  every- 
thing to  the  general,  accepting  a  large  part  of  the 
blame  herself,  although  she  was  as  innocent  as  a 
baby  concerning  the  calamity. 

"Make  yourself  perfectly  comfortable,"  re- 
plied General  Von  Geldern  ;  "you  are  a  very 
trustworthy  person.  I  know  perfectly  well  where 
the  blame  lies.  She  shall  never  go  out  on  the 
water  again  to  search  for  beetles  and  bugs.  The 
affair  is  frightfully  odious  to  me  every  way. 
Still,  -thank  God!  the  child  lives.  Elmbach  " 
here  the  high,  stern  forehead  grew  dark — 
"is  a  skillful  swimmer,  the  very  best  in  the 
company." 

"All  this  happens,"  said  Aunt  Mylitta,  as 
she  la}'  in  bed,  enduring  a  paroxysm  of  pain' — 
"all  this  happens  from  not  observing  the 


62  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

proprieties.  O,  our  girls,  our  girls!"  (renewed 
sobs) — "and  all  on  account  of  those  loathsome 
reptiles!" 

"Aunt,"  cried  Asta  from  the  adjoining  room, 
after  declaring  the  prescribed  soothing  drops 
prepared  for  her  to  be  entirely  unnecessary, 
"there  are  some  sticklebacks  there  in  their  spring 
gowns,  and  broad,  violet-blue  little  fish,  and  a 
water-spider  too — a  very  ideal  creature — " 

"The  last  which  you  have  ever  captured," 
retorted  the  aunt,  solemnly.  "It  is  on  that 
account  I  have  my  headache  to-day." 

Asta  lay  very  still.  '  Her  jesting  words  had 
only  come  from  the  surface.  Down  in  the 
depths  of  her  agitated  heart  there  was  the 
greatest  emotion ;  at  first  from  without.  He 
who  had  given  her  being,  had  now  rescued  her 
from  death.  She  recalled  her  feelings  when  no 
longer  able  to  cling  to  the  boat,  and  when  her 
strength  was  spent,  how  He  had  been  to  her 
more  than  God,  more  than  a  Creator,  He  had 
revealed  Himself  as  her  trust  and  her  Redeemer; 
a  strong  Rock  beneath  her  feet ;  while  the  fear 
and  anxiety  had  not  really  been  as  great  as  she 
would  have  felt  under  the  simple  recital  of  such 
an  experience  by  another. 

Later  she  thought  of  her  human  rescuer. 
She  had,  indeed,  no  adequate  conception  of  the 
intense  struggle  it  had  cost  him  to  save  her  from 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN  63 

a  watery  grave,  but  she  thanked  him  for  her 
life !  How  strangely  the  feelings  of  aversion  and 
prejudice  which  she  had  fostered  against  him 
had  been  changed  into  those  of  deep  interest — 
yes,  even  of  heart-felt  admiration  ! 


o         ^i>         &&&  .^-..-is  «k&         ^D 


^ 

---- 


III. 

"Possessions  vanish  and  opinions  change, 
And  passions  hold  a  fluctuating  seat; 
But  by  the  storms  of  circumstance  unshaken, 
And  subject  neither  to  eclipse  nor  wane, 
Duty  exists."  — WORDSWORTH. 

>LEAR,  warm  sunshine  played  upon  the  fo- 
liage of   a  cluster  of   trees  and  shrubbery 

that  grew  luxuriantly  beneath  the  windows 

& 

of  the  Villa  El OQ bach  at  Grlinhof.  Coun- 
cilor of  Commerce  Elmbaclv  was  a  promi- 
nent, wealthy  man.  He  could  afford  expensive 
surroundings  in  the  form  of  rare  flowers  and 
plants.  At  present,  however,  he  was  not  able 
to  enjoy  this  exceptionally  beautiful  Northern 
spring,  as  he  was  at  Carlsbad  ;  and  his  son  Ru- 
dolph, a  captain  in  the  Grenadier  Regiment  of 
King  William  III,  proudly  denominated  "The 
King's  Regiment,"  resided  alone  in  the  villa. 

He    must   have   been    engaged  in  service  un- 
usually late  ;   for  it  was  now  noon,   and   he  still 
sat  at  breakfast.     The   experiences  of  the  pre- 
vious evening  had  greatly  fatigued  him ;  and  he 
64 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  65 

looked  really  pale,  despite  his  sunburned  face, 
as  he  leaned  back  in  an  easy  chair,  and  per- 
mitted the  morning  paper,  which  he  had  been 
reading,  to  fall  upon  his  knee. 

Did  the  finch  startle  him,  as  her  trumpet  like 
blows  sounded  through  the  hall-open  window? 
or  had  the  spring  air,  heavily  laden  with  the 
perfume  of  hyacinths,  enervated  him?  Even 
the  highly  interesting  political  news  did  not  seem 
able  to  arrest  his  attention.  The  young  man's 
large  black  eyes  stared  into  vacancy,  filled  with 
an  expression  of  intense  emotion,  which  was 
reflected  upon  his  noble,  manly  countenance. 
He  wore  an  elegant  satin  dressing  gown,  and  was 
booted  and  spurred,  for  he  detested  slippers. 

His  thoughts  had. wandered  far  off  to  the 
depths  of  the  lake.  Ever  and  anon  he  saw  him- 
self engaged  in  that  imminent  struggle  of  a 
life  for  a  life;  now  endeavoring  to  release  him- 
self from  the  clutches  of  the  maiden,  who  wildly 
clung  to  his  breast ;  then  becoming  confused 
amid  the  richly  embroidered  draperies,  torn  in 
tatters.  What  a  slight  circumstance  might  have 
made  this  struggle  a  fatal  one,  causing  both  to 
rest  to-day,  heart  to  heart,  amid  the  gnarled  sea- 
weeds of  the  deep,  or  to  drift  side  by  side  on 
the  crystal  surface,  with  white,  upturned  faces, 
which  the  beaming  sun  should  vainly  endeavor  to 
warm,  and  around  which  the  rippling  waves 
6 


66  TttE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

should  murmur  a  death-song!  Had  he  not  res- 
cued her  from  the  lower  world  ?  Certainly ! 
And  now  she  was  again  Asta — a  star;  and 
"a  man  does  not  long  for  a  star,"  Goethe 
has  said. 

The  newspaper  lay  undisturbed;  the- finch, 
with  a  struggling  beetle  in  its  beak,  now  perched 
on  the  window-sill;  is  unmolested.  His  thoughts 
drift  farther :  "This  calamity  might  have  brought 
advancement  to  my  regiment ;  but  where  should 
I  be  to-day  ?"  The  well-cared-for  hand  of  the  cap- 
tain passed  over  his  forehead,  and  unconsciously 
a  light  sigh  escaped  him.  "The  great  Elm- 
bach  firm  would  not  be  able  to  draw  a  check 
upon  that  unknown  banking-house.  I  should  be 
poor  and  destitute  on  that  strange,  unknown 
ground."  Thoroughly  imbued  with  the  skepti- 
cism of  modern  times,  he  could  give  no  answer 
to  the  question. 

A  servant's  entrance  broke  the  spell.  The 
man  was  so  embarrassed  that  he  carried  into  the 
room  his  master's  boots,  which  he  was  engaged 
in  cleaning,  on  one  arm,  and  held  a  blacking- 
brush  in  his  hand.  "Sir — Captain — "  stam- 
mered poor  Gottfried;  "the — Sir — Commander 
is  without." 

Elmbach  raised  himself  loftily ;  Gottfried 
dropped  the  brush,  at  the  same  time  throw- 
ing open  the  folding  doors,  and  General  Von 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  67 

Geldern,  in  full  uniform,  with  his  numerous 
orders,  stepped  across  the  sill. 

The  sun  poured  a  flood  of  trembling  light 
into  the  apartment  as  the  two  officers  faced  each 
other.  The  general's  martial  figure,  whose  strik- 
ing face  suggested  the  physiognomy  of  a  lion, 
was  encircled  with  white  locks.  Elmbach,  on  the 
other  hand,  was  tall  and  erect,  with  a  strong 
military  mien,  which  gave  him  the  appearance  of 
a  bronze  statue.  A  wrinkle  dark  and  deep  con- 
tracted his  brows,  while  an  expression  of  intense 
excitement  burned  from  his  eyes. 

"I  came  to  present  to  you  my  sincerest,  heart- 
felt thanks.  But  for  you  I  should  this  day  be  a 
childless  man,"  said  the  general. 

"You  do  me  too  much  honor,  General.  The 
whole  affair  rests  upon  an  accident." 

A  thermometer  which  hung  by  the  window 
must  have  dropped  suddenly  to  zero.  An  icy 
atmosphere  seemed  to  pervade  the  room. 

"I  thank  you,"  repeated  the  general.  Elm- 
bach  bowed  profoundly.  "And  if  I  ever  shall 
be  able  to  render  you  a  service — although  there 
can  be  nothing  commensurate  with  what  you  have 
done  for  me — it  will  be  an  honor  and  a  pleasure 
for  me  to  perform  it." 

"General  Von  Geldern  wholly  overestimates 
this  affair,"  replied  Elmbach,  even  more  briefly 
than  before. 


63  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

"My  dear  Elinbach,"  continued  the  general, 
stepping  aside  a  few  paces  in  order  to  place  his 
helmet  upon  a  table,  "you  repulse  my  thanks; 
but  I  repeat  them.  I  had  hoped  I  should  be 
able  to  bring  you  no  greater  proof  of  my  appre- 
ciation than  this  personal  visit.  It  is  rather  hu- 
miliating to  me  that  you  persist  in  standing  like 
a  recruit  in  my  presence,  while  I  offer  rny  debt 
of  thanks  for  my  Asia's  life.  To  say  the  least, 
it  is  unfriendly." 

A  deep  blush  suffused  the  young  man's  coun- 
tenance ;  but  it  seemed  as  though  no  power 
could  melt  the  icy  ban  which  imposed  his  strong 
repellence.  Not  a  hair's-breadth  did  he  waver 
from  the  sharp  line  which  distinguishes  the  sub- 
altern from  one  of  higher  rank. 

"My  child  is  all  my  happiness,"  began  again 
the  general.  "Do  you  think  it  is  a  matter  of 
indifference  to  me  whether  her  dear  life  became 
a  prey  to  fishes  or  not?  I  have  come  to  you 
as  one  soldier  to  another,  to  say,  I  thank  you, 
comrade,  I  thank  you." 

The  general  reached  out  his  hand.  Elmbach 
drew  back.  Heretofore  blushing,  he  was  now 
deathly  pale.  General  Von  Geldern  threw  back 
his  massive  head,  and  "the  Lion  of  Barbary" 
seemed  as  if  it  were  about  to  emit  a  gloomy 
growl. 

Elmbach  writhed  for  breath. 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  69 

"General  Von  Geldern  forgets,"  he  finally 
said,  with  half  choked  utterance,  "that  as  the 
representative  of  my  family,  it  is  impossible  for 
me  to  extend  a  friendly  welcome  to  him  under 
my  father's  roof.  It  is  likewise  impossible  for 
me  to  be  in  his  presence  any  other  than  the  cap- 
tain of  Company  5,  in  the  Grenadier  Regiment 
of  his  majesty,  Frederick  William  IV.  There  is 
nothing  further  to  add,  sir." 

"-But  this  is  simply  monstrous,"  interrupted 
the  general.  "Am  I  not  the  injured  one, 
the  man  upon  whom  the  infamy  has  been  per- 
petrated ?" 

"Hold!"  cried  Elmbach,  unconsciously  draw- 
ing1 his  hand  toward  his  hip  as  if  seeking  a 
weapon. 

"No/  not  hold,  Sir  Captain.  Your  father  in 
his  day  denied  me  the  satisfaction  for  which  my 
heart  burned.  I  dare  say  this  is  familiar  to  you." 

"  My  father  is  no  soldier.  He  has  his  own 
opinions  of  the  world.  I  admit  they  are  often 
opinions  too  ideal,  but  I  know  them.  As  for 
me,  sir,  no  one  longs  more  ardently  than  I  to  take 
up  the  neglected  privilege  of  my  father.  I 
therefore  place  myself  at  your  disposal." 

There  was  a  pause.  The  'storm  had  passed 
over  the  corner  of  the  tree.  A  white  dove,  with 
outspread  wings,  left  her  peaceful  trace  over  the 
rich  blooming  garden. 


70  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

"  But,  Elmbach,  Elmbach  !"  pursued  the  gen- 
eral, controlling  himself,  and  stepping  back- 
ward, "I  came  to  thank  you  for  the  heroism 
which  saved  Asta's  life,  and  you  unceremoniously 
thrust  upon  me  a  challenge.  Can  anything  be 
more  unreasonable?  Can  I  accept  it  regardless 
of  my  responsible  position  toward  others?" 

"Such  reasons,  sir,  might  possibly  prevent  the 
acceptance  of  a  challenge  as  inadmissible  to  any 
one  except  a  soldier.  Was  this  the  case  with 
my  father?" 

"Are  you  acquainted  with  the  whole  affair?" 
asked  the  general,  earnestly. 

"I  knew  my  father;  at  least  I  knew  that  my 
father's  honor  has,  in  some  unaccountable  way, 
been  lessened  since  General  Von  Geldern  has 
recently  become  the  commander  of  the  garrison 
at  Stettin.  Lieutenant  Von  Geldern  was  for- 
merly his  friend.  To  cherish  such  associations 
in  any  other  case,  would  be  a  sacred  pleasure ; 
but  here  it  has  simply  tended  to  degrade  my 
worthy  and  beloved  father  in  public  estimation. 
Who  other  than  you,  sir,  could  have  uttered — 
must  I  say  it,  with  regret — the  base  calumnies?" 

"That  I  have  not  done,"  remonstrated  the 
general,  with  commendable  sincerity,  "although 
I  have  reason  to  condemn  him.  To  calumniate 
is  not  characteristic  of  a  Pomeranian  nobleman. 
If  the  city  is  cognizant  of  the  affair,  it  is  because 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  71 

such  things  can  not  be  concealed ;  and  my  return 
to  this  post — which  I  was  unable  to  prevent — 
has  revived  old  recollections.  Calm  yourself, 
Captain,  and  I  will  place  the  circumstances  cor- 
rectly before  you  ;  then  deliver  your  verdict,  in 
God's  name,  for  the  first  time." 

The  general  paced  up  and  down  the  room, 
while  Elmbach,  who  had  relaxed  his  military 
position,  leaned  against  the  edge  of  the  window. 
His  eyelids  had  fallen  so  deeply  that  their  long, 
dark  lashes  rested  upon  his  cheeks,  and  he  toyed 
restlessly  with  a  pen-holder  he  had  lifted  unwit- 
tingly from  an  adjacent  writing-desk. 

"You  have  doubtless  heard  of  Castor  and 
Pollux,"  resumed  the  general — "two  fellows 
from  Grecian  mythology." 

A  quick,  shimmering  semblance  of  a  smile 
for  an  instant  lighted  Elmbach's  dark  face. 

"Very  well.  Your  father  and  I  long  ago 
personated  Castor  and  Pollux ;  at  least  our  Stet- 
tin acquaintances  so  designated  us.  Your  grand- 
parents, wealthy,  respectable  people,  played 
quite  a  role  in  the  world.  As  for  me,  I  was  the 
only  son  of  an  impoverished  landed  proprietor, 
orphaned  at  the  early  age  of  ten  years,  and  sent 
to  boarding-school  in  order  to  prepare  for  the 
gymnasium.  There  we  became  acquainted.  I 
was  attracted  toward  the  tall,  pale  youth,  with 
his  sentimental,  languishing  eyes,  evidently 


72  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

because  I  was  his  counterpart.  My  strong  arm 
was  able  to  vanquish  any  comrade  that  assaulted 
him.  He  took  me  to  his  father's  luxurious 
house,  and  taught  me  to  enjoy  '  pati  de  fois gras. ' 
Thus  the  friendship  was  cemented.  Later  we 
had  a  boat  in  common  on  the  Oder,  or  walked 
the  streets,  wearing  long  hair,  Byronic  collars, 
and  growing  enthusiastic  over  German  loyalty — 
a  subject,  by  the  way,  that  warms  me  to  this 
day.  It  was  during  that  beautiful  period  that 
we  received  the  titles  of  Castor  and  Pollux. 

"  '  Let  us  show  the  Greeks,'  said  your  father, 
when  he  heard  it,  '  what  true  friendship  is.  They 
had  no  conception  of  it  as  we  have.' 

"I  heartily  coincided  with  him;  for,  you 
see,  Elmbach,  in  the  fresh  innocence  of  youth  one 
believes  everything.  We  were  then  separated, 
your  father  entering  the  university,  while  I 
chose  a  military  career.  A  few  years  later  found 
us  at  Stettin  again.  He  had  become  a  partner 
in  his  father's  business,  and  I  an  officer  in  the 
Kolberger  regiment,  the  different  duties  of  our 
vocations  being  no  hindrance  whatever  to  the 
renewal  of  our  friendship. 

"Among  others,  we  frequently  visited  the 
family  of  Herr  Von  Werner,  at  their  splendid 
.country-seat,  a  short  distance  away.  In  the 
winter  they  removed  to  the  city.  This  family 
is  not  unknown  to  you,  sir.  Your  mother  was 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  73 

an  only  daughter  of  this  house,  and  has  trans- 
mitted to  you  the  same  black  eyes  which  enslaved 
me.  But,  not  to  digress,  I  loved  the  beautiful 
Louise  with  all  the  ardor  of  a  sincere  young 
Pomeranian's  heart.  Pity  that  this  love  had  not 
taken  possession  of  me  earlier!  It  might  have 
spared  me  many  youthful  follies.  I  had  impru- 
dently involved  myself  in  debt,  and  was  re- 
garded in  Stettin  as  a  fast,  gay  young  man. 
That  rumor  exaggerates  constantly  such  matters 
to  the  detriment  of  a  person  need  not  be  dis- 
cussed here.  Louise's  fortune  would  have  been 
to  me,  at  that  time,  a  blessing,  and  I  exerted  all 
my  powers  to  win  her." 

The  general  paused,  and  seated  himself. 
"You  will  permit  me  this  indulgence,  as  my  old 
complaint  is  particularly  troublesome  in  the 
spring." 

Elmbach  bowed  a  silent  assent,  and  continued 
to  trifle  with  the  pen-holder,  while  the  shadow 
upon  his  forehead  assumed  a  greater  degree  of 
darkness. 

"Your  father  was  aware  of  my  love,"  con- 
tinued the  general.  "He  protected  and  encour- 
aged it.  I  emphasize  the  word  'protected,'  be- 
cause his  influence  was  large  in  the  Werner 
family.  It  was  reported  that  the  Werners  were 
indebted  in  a  business  or  pecuniary  point  of 
view  to  the  Elmbachs ;  in  fact,  that  the  actual 
7 


74  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

prosperity  of  the  former  had  its  origin  in  a  great 
favor  shown  to  them  by  your  grandfather  in  ear- 
lier days.  You  know  best  the  truth  of  this 
rumor.  As  for  me,  I  lived  in  hope,  and  if  I  did 
not  take  active  steps  to  accomplish  my  purpose, 
it  was  because  I  desired  to  arrange  with  my 
creditors  before  asking  for  Louise's  hand.  In 
this  undertaking  your  father  was  very  helpful, 
and  evinced  a  sincere  interest  in  my  affairs. 
They  were  very  much  complicated,  but  not  so 
hopeless  that  everything  would  be  ingulfed,  as  I 
had  reason  to  expect  a  small  inheritance  from  an 
aged  aunt,  from  whom  I  concealed  my  condition 
in  order  that  the  old  lady  might  not  be  troubled 
by  my  creditors. 

"One  day  I  was  seated  in  a  cafe— it  was  just 
such  a  beautful  spring  as  we  have  this  year — 
when  the  sound  of  a  great  tumult  reached  me 
from  the  street.  Your  father,  who  was  not  so 
proficient  in  driving,  swimming,  etc.,  as  you  are, 
sat  in  a  half-open  carriage,  the  horses  of  which 
had  become  wholly  ungovernable,  and  were 
frantically  galloping  in  a  dangerous  direction.  I 
did  what  any  other  friend  under  similar  circum- 
stances would  have  attempted.  I  threw  myself 
before  the  animals,  between  them  and  a  wall. 
It  would  have  been  all  very  well  had  I  not 
slipped  upon  some  mortar  and  fallen.  Mean- 
while, as  I  lay  under  the  horses'  feet,  some  one 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  75 

secured  the  rebellious  creatures,  while  I  writhed 
in  agony,  as  my  left  leg  was  crushed,  and  it  was 
months  before  I  was  able  to  stand.  In  later 
years  the  injury  was  renewed,  and  necessitates 
me  to  play  the  role  of  a  commander  behind  the 
walls  of  a  fortress,  while  the  war-thunder  resounds 
from  without,  thrilling  a  soldier's  heart  with 
electric  power." 

Elmbach  glanced  at  the  narrator  from  beneath 
his  long  lashes. 

"I  have  never  known  that,"  he  interrupted, 
turning  his  eyes  upon  the  injured  leg  with  an 
expression  of  deep  interest  and  sympathy  as  the 
general  rubbed  and  stroked  it  appeasingly. 

"When  my  aunt  heard  of  the  accident,"  he 
resumed,  "she  sent  me  a  monstrosity  in  the 
form  of  a  dressing-gown,  which  appeared  to 
have  been  ordered  for  a  Chinese,  and  an  eight- 
paged  letter  abounding  in  regrets  and  admoni- 
tions for  my  foolhardiness.  I  lay  for  weeks 
longing  for  the  day  of  my  recovery.  Your 
father  visited  me  very  often  at  first.  He  was  the 
tenderest,  most  self-sacrificing  friend,  repeatedly 
assuring  me  that  I  had  saved  his  life.  Then  his 
visits  became  less  and  less  frequent ;  he  grew 
distrait,  and  after,  at  one  time,  remaining  away 
from  me  a  whole  fortnight,  I  made  inquiries, 
and  discovered  that  he  was  with  the  Werner 
family.  This  was  nothing  strange  or  unusual, 


76  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

for  I  knew  he  was  accustomed  to  pass  several 
weeks  at  a  time  there  during  the  summer;  but  I 
was  seized  with  a  peculiar  sensation,  and  although 
my  condition  forbade  the  exertion,  I  got  up, 
dressed  myself  in  the  Chinese  gown,  and  wrote 
him  a  long,  urgent  letter.  I  disclosed  the  anxie- 
ties of  my  soul,  and  entreated  him  to  look  after 
my  interests  in  behalf  of  Louise,  as  well  as  to 
intercede  for  me  with  her  parents.  I  had  scarcely 
finished  it  when  I  began  to  grow  faint,  and  had 
barely  strength  remaining  to  close  and  seal  the 
envelope,  when  I  fell  upon  the  bed  and  relapsed 
into  a  violent  fever. 

"During  a  long,  tedious  convalescence  busy 
tongues  brought  to  me  the  tidings  of  his  be- 
trothal to  Louise  Von  Werner.  The  day  upon 
which  my  servant  had  delivered  the  letter  he 
had  been  dismissed  by  your  father  with  a  note, 
in  which  he  greeted  me  warmly,  and  added,  in 
conclusion,  that  he  could  not  very  clearly  un- 
derstand the  joke  of  receiving  from  me  the  bare 
page  that  he  found  in  the  envelope.  And  tin's 
was  the  result  of  the  German  fidelity  for  which 
I  had  risked  my  life!  I  would  not  permit  j'our 
father  to  cross  my  threshold,  and  as  soon  as  I  could 
crawl,  I  dispatched  him  a  challenge,  which  he  de- 
clined on  the  plea  of  his  'eternal,  unchanged 
friendship,'  as  he  deemed  proper  to  express  it. 

"As  I,    in  those  bitter  days,  desired  to  eradi- 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  77 

cate  from  my  heart  every  vestige  of  the  enthu- 
siasm I  had  entertained  for  Castor,  I  determined 
to  bring  about  my  removal  from  Stettin,  as  I 
hoped,  forever. 

"It  was  a  wonderful  dispensation  that  after- 
ward I  should  not  only  marry,  but  command  a 
regiment  here.  I  have  always  regretted  my  ina- 
bility for  active  service  on  account  of  my  dis- 
abled leg.  This,  sir,  is  all  that  is  necessary  for 
you  to  know  with  regard  to  the  position  in  which 
your  father  and  I  stand,  in  order  that  you  may 
judge  fairly  between  us." 

"No,  sir,  it  is  not  all,"  responded  Elmbach, 
pushing  back  the  hair  from  his  temples ;  "it  still 
remains  a  mystery  why  public  opinion  has  turned 
against  my  father  since  General  Von  Geldern 
has  returned  to  Stettin — he  who  stood  before  all 
eyes,  known  or  unknown,  as  an  example  of 
honesty  and  noble  purpose.  Some  one  has 
known  how  to  revive  that  old  story,  to  fabricate, 
to  exaggerate,  and  to  calumniate — "  the  youug 
captain's  face  became  a  flaming  torch,  while  his 
utterances  came  thick  and  fast. 

"Is  it  necessary  for  me  to  repeat  that  I  am 
not  accountable  for  the  work  of  these  scandals?" 
retorted  the  general.  "The  rich  are  always 
observed  with  critical  eye.  Their  position  is 
envied,  and  people  are  glad  to  attach  anything 
discreditable  to  them  upon  slight  provocation,  as 


78  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

these  have  surely  been.  Your  father  has  in 
nowise  been  compromised  by  me.  You  are  the 
first  person  to  whom  I  have  related  this  story — 
not  to  reproach  the  father  to  the  son,  but  in 
order  that  the  son  may  accept  the  thanks  of  a 
father  without  answering  him  with  a  challenge." 

"It  is  not  possible,"  exclaimed  Elmbach,  "it 
is  not  possible — " 

"My  dear  sir!"  remonstrated  the  general. 

"There  must  be  an  error,"  persisted  the 
young  man,  forcibly;  "and  so  long  as  it  remains 
in  doubt,  I  shall  maintain  my  father's  honor. 
He  is  utterly  incapable  of  such  action.  I  repeat 
it,  sir;  and  I  declare  it  to  be  impossible  as  you 
have  stated  it." 

"Are  you -aware,  Captain  Elmbach,  that  you 
only  widen  the  cleft  between  our  families  to  an 
abyss  by  such  expressions  ?  By  your  insistance  of 
an  error  somewhere,  you  imply  nothing  less  than 
doubt  of  my  veracity.  Such  a  scruple  wounds 
and  wrongs  me  to  the  utmost.  If  the  life  of 
my  daughter  did  not  stand  between  you  and  me, 
I  would — so  help  me  God ! — spare  no  pains  to 
bring  the  affair  to  a  decision  according  to  the 
code  of  a  soldier." 

"I  am  obliged  to  choose  between  you,  sir, 
and  my  father;  but  permit  me  to  add  that 
I  shall  never  forget  he  owes  his  life  to  you. 
I  beg  your  pardon,  and  trust,  sir,  you  will 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  79 

appreciate    the    extremely    painful    position    in 
which  I  am  placed." 

"No,  sir,  I  perceive  nothing  but  your  doubt 
of  my  veracity.  Providence  presented  you  with 
the  opportunity  of  saving  my  Asta's  life,  in 
order  to  bridge  over  the  sad  chasm;  but  men 
are  always  opposing  God's  purposes.  You  de- 
stroy the  bridge  arid  I — as  I  have  not  failed  to 
present  my  thanks  with  the  sincere  word  of  a 
gentleman — I  part  from  you  more  estranged 
than  ever,  justified  before  the  tribunal  of  my 
conscience.  I  have  the  honor,  Captain  Elmbach, 
to  take  my  leave  of  you." 

The  general  seized  his  helmet,  and  strode 
haughtily  and  majestically  from  the  room.  Elm- 
bach  snapped  the  pen-holder  asunder  with  such 
force  the  splinters  were  scattered  to  the  farthest 
corners  of  the  apartment ;  then  he  called  his  serv- 
ant in  stentorian  tones : 

' '  Gottfried — a  glass  of  water — I  have  ver- 
tigo!" and,  stepping  to  the  window,  he  tore  off 
his  coat. 

Without,  the  spring  continued  to  weave  a  sun- 
beam garment,  and  paint  upon  the  world  its  seven 
rainbow  hues.  The  hyacinths  looked  up  inquir- 
ingly into  the  storm-covered  face  of  their  young 
master;  the  finch  sang  upon  the  topmost  branch 
of  a  plum-tree ;  and  a  gentle  breeze  fluttered 
and  played  fawningly  around  the  temples  of  the 


8o  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

agitated  one.  Life  and  joy  were  poured  out  lav- 
ishly by  the  young  year,  upon  the  receptive, 
pleasure-loving  world,  in  all  the  fullness  of  beauty 
and  bloom. 

"There  must  be  an  error  somewhere,"  reiter- 
ated Elmbach  as  he  gazed  distractedly  out  of  the 
window  upon  all  this  May  splendor;  "and  if 
not,  then  I  should — " 

He  did  not  complete  the  sentence,  but  emptied 
the  glass  in  one  draught  which  Gottfried  now 
brought.  Then  he  dressed  hurriedly,  in  order  to 
report  promptly  for  service. 

The  conclusion  of  his  unuttered  words,  had 
they  been  audible,  would  have  been:  "Rather 
have  been  buried  in  the  depths  of  the  lake,  or 
burned  to  death  in  unquenchable  fire." 

Linnie  Bergmann  had  gone  to-day  (Friday), 
as  usual,  to  her  work.  Punctually  at  eight 
o'clock  we  see  her  ascend  the  narrow  steps  of  a 
four-story  tenement  on  the  wharf.  This  part  of 
Stettin  embraces  the  right  bank  of  the  Oder,  and 
is  bounded  on  the  left  by  several  large  bridges. 
It  comprises,  chiefly,  extensive  warehouses  for 
the  storage  of  merchandise ;  but  there  are  a 
number  of  streets  monopolized  by  the  humbler 
classes  for  dwellings.  Here  and  there  may  also 
be  found  a  few  more  pretentious  houses.  How 
is  it  that  a  seamstress  should  be  found  in  such  a 
locality  ?  Poor  people  do  not  require,  or  can  not 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  81 

afford  such  services.  Linnie  has  now  reached  a 
tall,  dilapidated  building,  whose  walls  bulge  out 
perceptibly  at  each  side.  She  passes  by  the 
first  story,  the  doorway  of  which  is  adorned  with 
a  white  porcelain  sill  and  a  bell.  On  the  second 
landing  a  white  card  announces  the  tenant's 
name ;  while  upon  the  third  a  simple  piece  of 
paper,  secured  by  wafers,  reads  :  "Alfred  Winter, 
Musician." 

At  this  point  Linnie's  ear  was  arrested  by  the 
shrill  tones  of  a  violin,  which  gave,  with  light, 
regular  springs,  a  Polka  Mazurka.  She  stopped 
a  moment,  not  so  much  to  listen  as  to  take 
breath.  Although  accustomed  to  climbing  stairs, 
these  hollow  and  roughly  worn  steps  had  fa- 
tigued her.  Still  farther  up,  when  the  fourth 
flight  had  been  attained,  the  loud  crying  of 
children  mingled  with  the  lively  dance-music. 

A  delicate  girl,  who  might  have  been  older 
than  she  appeared,  but  who  could  have  scarcely 
reached  her  twelfth  year,  thrust  her  head  out 
of  a  dingy  kitchen  when  she  heard  the  seam- 
stress's footsteps.  She  wore  an  apron  evidently 
belonging  to  a  full-grown  woman,  which  reached 
almost  to  her  feet,  while  she  held  in  one  hand 
a  large,  steaming,  wooden  ladle.  A  very  de- 
cided and  penetrating  odor  of  burning  food 
filled  the  area,  with  its  rough,  cracked  ceiling. 
The  little  face,  now  upturned  to  Linnie's, 


82  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

exhibited  a  prematurely  old,  care-worn  expres- 
sion, which  now  became  animated  with  a  gleam 
of  hope. 

"I  have  let  the  porridge  burn,  Fraulein  Lin- 
nie,"  she  said,  growing  painfully  red  with  mor- 
tification. 

"What  a  pity!"  replied  the  seamstress,  as 
she  opened  her  purse  and  placed  several  pieces 
of  money  in  the  girl's  hard,  slender  hand. 
"Hurry  back,  Gussie  ;  bring  coffee  and  milk  and 
a  loaf  of  bread — and  a  roll  for  the  mother." 

Augusta  vanished  like  lightning.  Linnie 
knocked  on  the  next  door,  and  soon  entered  a 
partially  lighted  room,  whose  roughly  hewn 
rafters  gave  it  a  depressing,  gloomy  appearance. 
The  atmosphere,  in  striking  contrast  with  the 
beautiful  May-day  without,  was  musty  and  close. 
Did  it  proceed  from  the  badly  whitewashed 
walls,  or  from  the  work  which  was  carried  on  in 
this  small  apartment? 

On  the  work-bench  was  a  large  glass  bowl, 
together  with  awls,  nails,  hammers,  and  hanks 
of  coarse  thread — in  short,  everything  pertaining 
to  the  needs  of  a  shoemaker.  The  latter  must 
have  been  already  diligently  at  work,  as  a  num- 
ber of  repaired  boots  of  great  size  stood  beside 
him.  He  sat  on  a  low,  three-legged  stool,  hold- 
ing a  small,  crying  baby  in  his  arms.  Another 
little  one,  two  years  old  or  less,  squatted 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  83 

between  the  boots  on  the  floor,  staring  with  won- 
dering eyes  on  his  father's  masterpieces.  Some 
distance  away,  partly  concealed  behind  a  confu- 
sion of  objects,  were  several  other  children,  all 
as  yet  unwashed,  and  supplied  only  with  the 
most  necessary  garments.  They  were  wailing 
and  weeping  at  intervals.  From  the  bed  in  a 
corner  a  worn  and  wrinkled  face  glanced  eagerly 
and  anxiously  toward  the  visitor. 

"Here  I  am,"  said  Linnie,  laying  aside  hat 
and  mantle,  and  drawing  forth  a  large,  strong 
linen  apron  from  her  satchel,  which  was  imme- 
diately worn.  Then  she  turned  up  her  sleeves, 
and  looked  around,  like  a  reconnoitering  general 
in  the  field,  whose  succeeding  action  is  not  yet 
perfectly  clear. 

"Thank  God  this  is  Friday!"  said  the  shoe- 
maker's wife,  in  a  hoarse  whisper. 

Linnie  reached  out  her  hand,  which  was 
warmly  pressed  by  the  sick  woman,  and  who 
grasped  her  arm  as  a  drowning  man  seizes  that 
of  his  rescuer. 

"Tell  me,"  she  whispered  anew,  "shall  I 
ever  be  able  to  leave  this  bed?  It  chafes  me 
here,  and  it  chafes  me  there,  to  see  the  children 
neglected,  and  no  one  to  help  them." 

The  shoemaker  looked  up  mournfully,  and 
met  Linnie's  brave  brown  eyes. 

"He  does  what  he  can,"  continued  the  wife, 


84  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

apologetically;  "but  he  can't  do  everything. 
There  is  no  one  to  cook  his  food.  Augusta  let 
the  porridge  burn,"  pointing  sadly  to  the  hearth, 
"O  take  me  away,"  she  cried  in  an  outburst  of 
discouragement;  "  take  me  anywhere.  I  can  not 
bear  this  any -longer. " 

"Still,  still,"  soothed  Linnie,  and  reaching  for 
the  infant,  that  had  cried  itself  to  sleep,  she  laid 
it  beside  the  mother.  This  was  wise;  for  what 
woman,  never  so  miserable,  would  not  live  so 
long  as  her  new-born  baby  breathes  ?  The  shoe- 
maker's wife  certainly  could  not  resist  the  sweet 
suggestion.  A  faint  smile  flitted  across  her 
complaining  face.  Linnie  nodded  her  head  with 
the  consoling  words:  "She  must  be  reared  yet. 
What  God  has  created,  he  will  care  for."  Then 
she  set  about  to  work. 

If  she  was  always  capable  as  a  seamstress, 
she  was  equally  so  as  a  housekeeper.  The  shoe- 
maker shifted  around  here  and  there  from  the 
reach  of  her  broom,  and  even  stood  upon  his 
bench  at  one  time  to  avoid  the  aggressive  mop. 
The  windows  were  thrown  open,  the  dingy  panes 
cleaned,  and  the  pure  May  air  and  light  streamed 
freely  and  gladly  in. 

Before  the  window  stood  an  old  shelf  for 
flowers.  It  had  been  left  there  by  a  former  and 
more  fortunate  tenant,  who  enjoyed  the  culti- 
vation of  growing  plants. 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  85 

"O,  what  a  fine  chance!"  exclaimed  Linnie, 
looking  back  into  the  room.  "I  have  often 
wished  so  much  to  bring  you  a  pot  of  flowers ; 
but  your  window-sill  is  so  narrow,  and  I  have 
never  before  observed  this  shelf.  We  must 
grow  vines  here — morning-glories,  to  train  on  the 
little  railing,  and  give  fresh  flowers  every  day." 
The  children  pressed  forward  eagerly.  "But  I 
must  sprinkle  you  first;  I  see  you  need  it  badly," 
she  added. 

Against  this  no  objections  were  permitted, 
and  soon  this  work  was  also  finished  ;  for,  although 
it  was  not  accomplished  quite  so  unhindered  and 
peacefully  as  the  other,  a  row  of  shining  little 
faces  soon  smiled  upon  the  poor  mother. 

"Ah!  if  you  did  not  give  us  your  Fridays," 
she  said,  "it  would  be  better  for  us  all  to  lie 
beneath  the  Oder."  She  held  now  a  bottle 
of  fresh  milk  in  her  hand,  Augusta  having 
returned  heavily  laden,  and  the  baby  was  soon 
satisfied. 

"Do  not  talk  so  before  the  children,"  en- 
treated Linnie.  "  How  shall  they  learn  to  trust 
God  if  they  hear  their  parents  express  such  sen- 
timents? With  God's  gracious  help,  you  will 
get  well,  and  your  husband's  work  will  increase. 
Do  you  not  know  the  song:  'The  Christian  is  a 
brave  soldier  ?'  We  must  lay  hold  of  the  sword 
of  the  Spirit,  and  wield  it  when  necessary ;  and 


86  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

when  the  waters  of  affliction  pass  over  the  soul, 
we  must  stretch  forth  our  hands  to  the  Savior  as 
Peter  did  when  he  was  sinking  beneath  the 
waves  of  Galilee  and  cry,  'Lord,  help  me!'  " 

The  shoemaker  wiped  his  eyes.  "Such  a 
song  is  very  beautiful,"  he  said  finally  ;  "  but  it  is 
easier  to  sing  it  than  to  stand  in  the  flood  up  to 
one's  neck.  If  you  had  not  discovered  us,  Frau- 
lein  Bergmann— "  He  broke  off  abruptly,  and 
began  to  work. 

"Why  do  you  always  come  to  us  on  Friday, 
Aunt  Linnie?"  asked  one  of  the  children. 

"I  will  tell  you,  Bertha,  and  you  must  never 
forget  it.  It  was  on  Friday  that  my  Lord  and 
Savior  died  on  the  cross  for  me,  and  by  his  blood 
and  sufferings  redeemed  me  for  all  eternity;  I 
show  my  gratitude  to  him ;  and  because  he 
regards  poor,  sick  people  as  his  brethren,  and 
has  said :  '  Whatsoever  ye  have  done  unto  one 
of  these  ye  have  done  it  unto  me.'  That  is 
why  I  work  on  Friday  for  you." 

"O  yes,"  replied  Bertha;  "now  I  know,  and 
it  is  a  very  good  reason." 

"And  that  is  why  you  will  cook  a  warm 
dinner  for  us  to-day,"  echoed  one  of  the 
others. 

Linnie  now  began  to  make  the  preparations 
for  this  dinner.  She  sent  off  the  elder  children 
to  school,  and  made  haste  to  engage  the  younger 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  87 

ones  in  some  ingenious  play-work.  Then  she 
adjusted  the  mother's  bed,  and  gave  her  a  clean 
cap,  after  having  refreshed  her  with  some  good 
coffee.  She  was  now  lying  there  very  com- 
fortably, and  soon  both  she  and  the  baby  were 
asleep,  the  pale,  waxen  cheeks  assuming  a 
rosy  tint. 

It  has  grown  surprisingly  still  in  that  poor 
room.  The  little  ones  sat  in  the  kitchen  with 
Linnie,  whose  light  footsteps  were  almost  in- 
audible as  she  flitted  hither  and  thither.  Sun- 
beams sparkled  in  the  glass  bowl ;  the  sparrows 
twittered  busily  without,  diligently  employed  in 
their  artistic  little  dwellings  in  the  cornice  of 
the  roof. 

Discouragement  was  vanquished.  Linnie's 
modest  form  had  come  between  it  and  its  re- 
sults. For  many  years  she  had  been  accus- 
tomed to  spend  every  Friday  among  the  poor  and 
suffering. 

The  children,  longing  for  the  warm  dinner, 
came  in  eagerly,  and  surrounded  the  table,  where 
"Aunt  Linnie"  dispensed  the  steaming  meat 
stew,  which  very  soon  produced  good  effects. 
They  all  repeated  in  unison:  "Thank  the 
Lord,  for  he  is  good,  for  his  mercy  endureth 
forever." 

O,  it  is  easy  to  teach  and  easy  to  instruct 
when  word  and  deed  are  united,  as  with  the 


88  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

seamstress  of  Stettin  !  She  had  become  thor- 
oughly warm  on  account  of  her  active  la- 
bors, and  her  cheeks  glowed  and  bloomed  like 
summer  roses.  Her  mother  was  right,  in- 
deed, that  perennial  youth  accompanied  her 
everywhere. 

In  the  afternoon  she  was  again  engaged  in 
her  original  calling, — seated  by  the  window, 
diligently  repairing  a  great  bundle  of  shirts  and 
dresses  of  all  sizes.  Her  energy  was  the  same 
whether  she  worked  in  one  of  the  elegantly  ap- 
pointed villas  at  Griinhof,  beneath  the  super- 
vision of  some  economical  housewife's  watchful 
eye,  or  here  for  sweet  charity's  sake.  She  had 
several  times  been  mindful  of  the  noise  of  sham- 
bling footsteps  and  low  voices  in  an  adjoining 
room,  and  just  now  a  strong  odor  of  tobacco- 
smoke  came  through  the  crevices  and  keyhole 
of  the  door  between. 

"The  landlord  has  given  that  for  soldiers," 
explained  the  shoemaker.  "They  are  orderly 
folks,  and  come  in  here  sometimes  to  tell  us 
stories  and  pass  a  pleasant  evening.  If  my  wife 
were  well  we  might  rent  the  room,  furnish  break- 
fast, and  wash  for  them  ;  then  we  should  be  in 
need  no  longer;  we  could  live  on  that  alone. 
But  when  the  health  is  gone,  nothing  can  be 
made.  Will  you  not  sing  something  for  us? 
You  sing  so  beautifully,  one  forgets  his  cares." 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  89 

Linnie  hesitated  a  moment,  then  began  in  a 
low,  sweet  voice: 

"  O,  love  divine,  how  sweet  thou  art ! 
•  When  shall  I  find  my  willing  heart 

All  taken  up  by  Thee  ? 
I  thirst,  I  faint,  I  die  to  prove 
The  greatness  of  redeeming  love, 
The  love  of  Christ  to  me." 

"Is  it  permitted?"  said  some  one  in  the  ves- 
tibule, opening  the  door. 

"Certainly,"  replied  the  shoemaker,  without 
stopping  his  work. 

The  visitor  must  be  the  musician,  Alfred 
Winter,  as  he  carries  a  violin  under  his  arm. 
Over  a  shabby  velvet  jacket  his  hair  fell  in  a 
long,  disordered  mass  (after  the  fashion  of  so- 
called  artists),  which  he  flung  back  from  time  to 
time.  His  face  was  thin,  and  the  eyes  dark  and 
glistening.  He  belonged  to  that  class  of  men, 
who,  following  an  inward  impulse,  attempt  many 
things,  but  do  nothing  regularly.  He  was  found 
here  and  there  in  the  large  orchestras  as  an  oc- 
casional substitute,  or  during  the  winter  season 
playing  the  violin  for  dancing,  or  endeavoring 
to  form  a  band  of  musicians  to  travel  through 
the  country  towns,  and  attend  weddings  and 
fairs  in  summer. 

"I  am  not  particularly  an  admirer  of  religious 
music,"  he  said,  bowing  politely  to  the  singer; 
8 


90  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

"but  the  voice  attracted  me,  and  the  melody  is 
not  badly  written.  If  you  do  not  object,  I  should 
like  to  remain  and  hear  you." 

Linnie  had  looked  up  when  he  entered ;  but 
her  eyes  fell,  and  with  the  thought,  "Well,  then, 
it  will  do  this  man  the  greatest  good  to  hear 
something  sacred,"  she  continued  : 

"God  only  knows  the  love  of  God; 
O  that  it  now  were  shed  abroad 

In  this  poor,  stony  heart ! 
For  love  I  sigh,  for  love  I  pine ; 
This  only  portion,  Lord,  be  mine, — 
Be  mine  this  better  part." 

Afred  Winter  sat  on  the  narrow  window- 
ledge,  now  resting  his  violin  on  his  shoulder 
and  the  bow  ready.  As  Linnie  began  the  third 
verse  he  softly  and  carefully  accompanied  her 
with  pure  strokes  to  the  end. 

"O,  that  I  could  forever  sit 
With  Mary  at  my  Savior's  feet ! 

Be  this  my  happy  choice, 
My  only  care,  delight,  and  bliss ; 
My  joy,  my  heaven  on  earth  be  this, 

To  hear  the  Bridegroom's  voice." 

Before  they  had  concluded,  a  light  knock  was 
heard,  and  after  a  pause  one  of  the  aforemen- 
tioned soldiers  appeared  at  the  threshold.  His 
comrades,  four  or  five  in  number,  were  evi- 
dently closely  following.  They  had  been  seated 
by  a  long  table,  polishing  buttons. 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  91 

"If  it  is  agreeable  to  you,  sir,"  said  the  fore- 
most, "we  will  open  the  door  and  hear  the 
lovely  music.  We  do  n't  enjoy  such  a  privilege 
every  day." 

Linnie's  audience  had  in  this  way  become 
surprisingly  increased  ;  but  as  she  did  not  doubt 
it  would  be  especially  profitable  for  these  flaxen- 
haired  grenadiers  to  receive  good  impressions  on 
ear  and  heart,  through  the  simple  song,  she  gave 
the  musician  a  signal,  and  sang  further : 

"The  fullness  of  thy  life  bestow 
On  us,  thy  members  here  below ; 

Revive  each  fainting  heart, 
Each  sick  and  wounded  spirit  heal ; 
Thy  beauty  to  our  souls  reveal, 
Thy  light  and  love  impart. 

Blest  Comforter,  celestial  Dove, 
Thou  Lord  of  life,  thou  fount  of  love  ! 

Be  thou  our  inward  guest. 
Illumed  and  sanctified  by  thee, 
Thy  living  temples  let  us  be, 

Thine  everlasting  rest." 

A  profound  silence  ensued.  Finally  one  of 
the  grenadiers  said:  "That  is  really  beauti- 
ful; one  might  carry  it  along  to  the  battle- 
field. If  we  must  die  some  time,  it  is  better  to 
die  pious." 

"Yes,  yes;  sing  us  something  about  death 
and  dying,"  exclaimed  another.  "Who  knows 
how  soon  a  ball  may  strike  us  in  the  ear?" 


92  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

"I  should  prefer  not  to  sing  of  death  and 
dying,"  replied  Linnie ;  "but,  if  agreeable  to 
you,  rather  of  what  lies  beyond  it.  Out  of  this 
bitter  root  springs  a  sweet  flower,  called  Eternal 
Life.  People  situated  as  we  are,  obliged  to  work 
hard  all  day  long,  and  who  never  have  their  own 
wishes  in  anything ;  who  often  do  not  know 
where  the  morning's  bread  shall  come  from, — 
.to  such  it  is  always  pleasant  to  hear  a  song  about 
rest ;  and  I  should  like  to  sing  one  of  that  kind 
for  you." 

"Rest,"  murmured  the  sick  one  from  her 
bed;  "bad  people  must  first  be  taken  out  of  the 
world,  and  crying  children,  gnats,  and  flies  ban- 
ished in  summer." 

"Yes,  and  everything  arranged  so  that  nothing 
shall  cost  money,"  supplemented  her  husband, 
emphatically. 

"And  make  our  captain  a  little  easier," 
interjected  the  youngest  soldier,  timidly;  "and 
the  field  sergeant  not  quite  so  particular." 

"For  my  part,  I  do  n't  make  much  of  '  rests, ' ' 
exclaiired  the  musician,  forcibly.  "I  like  to 
travel  about  in  the  cities  and  country,  and  play 
the  fiddle  to  make  the  girls  cry ;  but  I  have  no 
objection  whatever  to  place  my  art  at  Fraulein 
Bergmann's  service,  if  she  wishes  to  sing  a  song 
about  rest." 

He  bowed  most  profoundly  before  her,  and 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  93 

they  all  laughed.  The  shoemaker  thought, 
"There  isn't  much  wanting  in  the  fellow  for*a 
gentleman." 

Linnie  consulted  him  over  the  melody  of  a 
familiar  hymn  a  few  moments.  It  was  not 
unknown  to  him,  and  they  began : 

"In  the  Christian's  home  in  glory 
There  remains  a  land  of  rest ; 
There  my  Savior's  gone  before  me, 
To  fulfill  my  soul's  request. 

There  is  rest  for  the  weary, 

There  is  rest  for  you ; 
On  the  other  side  of  Jordan, 
In  the  sweet  fields  of  Eden, 
Where  the  tree  of  life  is  blooming, 

There  is  rest  for  you. 

He  is  fitting  up  my  mansion, 

Which  eternally  shall  stand  ; 
For  my  stay  shall  not  be  transient 

In  that  holy,  happy  land. 
There  is  rest  for  the  weary,  etc." 

Was  it  a  premonition  of  the  sad  occurrences 
which  that  sultry,  long  season  of  1866  should 
bring  to  this  little  group  ? — an  awe  that  was 
pregnant  with  wounds  and  bloodshed  and  bat- 
tles, pale  lips,  and  distorted  faces?  They  list- 
ened with  spell-bound  attention  to  the  hymn — 
so  intently,  indeed,  that  the  loud,  clinking  tread 
of  spurs  was  unheard  climbing  the  stairs,  and  a 
visitor  made  his  appearance  suddenly.  Instinct- 
ively the  soldiers  perceived  him  first,  and  springing 


94  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

up  saluted  him;  then  formed  in  a  line  along 
the  wall.  Captain  Elmbach  crossed  the  thresh- 
old. He  had  come  to  inspect  his  men's  quar- 
ters. His  keen  eyes  flashed  over  the  surround- 
ings, finally  resting  upon  the  seamstress  with  an 
inquiring  glance.  Perhaps  a  recollection  passed 
through  his  mind  of  that  first  meeting  amid 
the  reeds  and  rushes,  as  well  as  that  brief 
but  thrilling  drama  enacted  near  the  islet  of  the 
great  lake.  He  exchanged  a  few  words  in  rela- 
tion to  the  quarters  with  the  eldest  soldier,  then 
turned  to  Linnie. 

"I  am  sorry  to  have  interrupted  you.  The 
song  has  appealed  to  me.  Will  you  be  so  kind 
as  to  proceed  with  it  ?" 

"Has  he,  too,  a  poor,  hungry  soul?  And 
am  I  not  unspeakably  indebted  to  him?"  thought 
Linnie,  as  she  replied:  "With  pleasure,  sir; 
what  would  I  not  do  for  Captain  Elmbach  if  he 
requested  it?" 

"You  appear  to  know  me,"  he  said,  stroking 
his  black  beard  calmly. 

"I  accompanied  Fraulein  Von  Geldern  on 
her  journey  to  Gctzlow.  Ah,  sir,  if  you  had 
not  been  so  heroic,  her  life  would  have  been 
spent,  and  then  what  would  have  become  of  me  ? 
Could  I  have  returned  to  the  general,  her  father, 
without  his  Asta?" 

"Enough,     enough,"     interrupted    Elmbach, 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  95 

firmly,  "there  is  more  spoken  concerning  this 
affair  than  I  like.  You  are  willing  to  sing,  and 
I  would  hear  with  what  kind  of  music  my  men 
are  entertained." 

Linnie  turned  to  the  musician;  then  began 
again  to  sing  with  confidence : 

"  Pain  and  sickness  ne'er  shall  enter, 
Grief  nor  woe  my  lot  shall  share  ; 
But  in  that  celestial  center 
I  a  crown  of  life  shall  wear. 
There  is  rest  for  the  weary,  etc. 

Death  itself  shall  then  be  vanquished, 
And  his  sting  shall  be  withdrawn  ; 

Shout  for  gladness,  O  ye  ransomed ! 
Hail  with  joy  the  rising  morn. 
There  is  rest  for  the  weary,  etc. 

Sing,  O  sing,  ye  heirs  of  glory ! 

Shout  your  triumph  as  you  go  ! 
Zion's  gate  will  open  for  you, 
You  shall  find  an  entrance  through. 
There  is  rest  for  the  weary, 

There  is  rest  for  you ; 

On  the  other  side  of  Jordan, 

In  the  sweet  fields  of  Eden, 

Where  the  tree  of  life  is  blooming, 

There  is  rest  for  you." 

Elmbach  listened  with  hands  folded  upon  his 
sword-hilt.  Linnie  herself  was  unaware  that  to 
the  lovely  quality  of  her  voice  was  added  an  ex- 
pression of  overwhelming  pathos  and  power.  Be- 
cause she  stood  in  uninterrupted  communication 


96  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

with  the  invisible  world,  daily  and  hourly  receiv- 
ing heavenly  manna  from  her  Father's  hand,  she 
was  almost  unwittingly  in  perfect  sympathy  with 
all  human  hearts.  If  it  had  been  otherwise, 
why  would  the  strong-willed  young  captain  have 
remained  so  long  to  listen  to  her  song?  He 
was  still  unnerved  by  the  recent  exciting  inter- 
view with  General  Von  Geldern ;  doubts  and 
perplexities  troubled  him  ;  he  had  tasted  the  bit- 
terness of  an  enemy's  enforced  pride,  and  had 
been  obliged  to  confess  that  his  blunt  refusal  of 
expressed  thanks  had  made  a  reconciliation  more 
remote  than  ever.  All  this  filled  him  with  dis- 
quietude. But  there  was  something  else :  in  the 
innermost  depths  of  his  being  there  had  been 
a  sweet  longing,  and  from  this  he  seemed  to 
have  been  alienated  by  his  conduct.  The  first 
beginnings  of  suffering  stirred  him  like  a  reek- 
ing lake,  over  which  the  storm  clouds  have 
gathered  and  lie  brooding  in  gloomy  calm  upon 
its  tremulous  depths.  He  beheld  himself  as  in 
a  mirror;  the  storm  was  approaching,  and  he 
listened  to  the  strange  language  of  the  song 
of  Rest. 

He  gazed  at  the  seamstress,  while  the  grena- 
diers looked  upon  him  in  wonder. 

"Thank  you  very  much,"  he  finally  said; 
then  after  some  thought  he  asked:  "Are  you 
related  to  this  family?" 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  97 

She  had  resumed  her  work,  and  the  shoe- 
maker replied  for  her:  "No,  sir;  Fraulein  Berg- 
mann  is  not  a  relative  of  such  poor  people  as 
we  are.  She  goes  out  to  sew  in  many  distin- 
guished families,  and  is  treated  by  them  as  an  old 
acquaintance.  She  comes  to  us  only  on  Fridays. 
My  wife  has  been  ill  a  long  time — " 

"And  Friday  the  Lord  Jesus  died  on  the 
cross  for  Linnie ;  that  is  why  she  comes  to  us 
and  cooks  us  warm  dinners,  and  mends  our 
clothes  all  for  nothing.  Yes,  she  does  all  that." 

Bertha,  who  had  entered  unobserved,  and  re- 
mained staring  at  the  captain  with  open  mouth, 
believed  this  to  be  a  good  opportunity  to  air 
her  lesson. 

Elmbach's  great  black  eyes  widened  with 
astonishment. 

"Why  are  you  so  surprised,  sir?"  asked 
Linnie,  modestly.  "You  know  the  words  that 
come  to  us  on  Good  Friday :  '  I  have  done  this 
for  thee ;  what  hast  thou  done  for  me  ?'  ' 

No ;  these  words  were  not,  as  yet,  known  to 
him.  The  Holy  Land  was  not  farther  from  him 
than  such  thoughts. 

"How  is  Fraulein  Von  Geldern?"  he  asked 
abruptly. 

"She  is  as  fresh  as  a  lark,  and  as  sound  as 
she  ever  was  from  her  cradle." 

"And  have  you  known  her  so  long?" 
9 


98  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

Linnie  bowed,  •  and  continued:  "She  only 
regrets  that  she  has  been  unable  to  thank 
you,  sir." 

"I  desire  no  thanks,"  he  replied  curtly. 
"But  I  am  glad  we  have  renewed  our  ac- 
quaintance." 

Shaking  her  hand  warmly,  he  left  the  shoe- 
maker's dwelling,  the  children  gazing  after  him 
in  breathless  admiration. 

"It  is  well  he  found  everything  in  good 
order,"  opined  the  old  soldier. 

"He  is  not  very  easy-natured,"  reflected  one 
of  the  younger  grenadiers,  confidently.  "No, 
he  is  not  easy-natured,  but  a  man  who  would 
jump  into  a  lake  booted  and  spurred  if  the 
exigency  demanded  it.  We  would  go  through 
fire  and  water  for  him,  and  he  knows  it.  In 
the  coming  times,  I  should  n't  like  to  be  an 
Austrian.  We  thank  you  for  the  -beautiful 
music,  Fraulein  Bergmann  ;  and  when  you  come 
again  we  hope  the  door  will  be  opened  to  us, 
and  that  we  shall  be  permitted  to  hold  such 
pleasant  comradeship  with  you." 

"  Auf  wiedersehen, "  laughed  Linnie;  "I  be- 
long to  the  military,  after  all." 

The  door  was  closed.  Alfred  Winter  also 
took  his  leave.  Late  in  the  evening  Linnie 
finished  her  work.  When  she  left  the  house, 
the  children  had  been  put  to  bed,  the  sick 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  99 

mother  confessed  she  felt  ever  so  much  better, 
and  the  day  had  been  one  of  real  blessing. 

"  Life,  I  repeat,  is  energy  of  love, 
Divine  or  human  ;  exercised  in  pain, 
In  strife  and  tribulation  ;  and  ordained, 
If  so%approved  and  sanctified,  to  pass 
Through  shades  and  silent  rest  to  endless  joy." 

— WORDSWORTH. 


"         -sL-         *\jx*         *sl^*         *st"         *sL"         «*L"         "Six*         "Si**         *\L"         *xlv*         "xL"         *\lxl         **Jx*         "-I" 

riTiTt  i  1 1  >  i  i  I~TITTI  i TI  >~i  i  n  f  i~r i  f  1 1 TT!~I  i  \\  rrr 


IV. 

"And  now  the  warning  trumpet  peals! 

The  battle  's  on  the  way  ; 
The  bravest  heart  that  moment  feels 

The  thrilling  of  dismay. 
Around-  the  loved,  in  shrinking  fear, 

Love's  straining  arms  are  cast; 
The  heart  is  in  that  single  tear, 

That  parting  is  the  last. 

The  courier,  in  his  arrowy  flight, 

Gives  out  the  battle-cry  ; 
And  now,  march  on  with  stern  delight — 

To  fall  is  not  to  die ! 
Already  many  a  gallant  name 

Your  country's  story  bears : 
Go!  rival  all  your  fathers'  fame, 

Or  earn  a  death  like  theirs." 

— W.  B.  O.  PEABODY. 

do  you  like  this  material,  Linnie? 
Isn't  it  lovely?  Bright  little  rose-buds  on 
a  white  ground.  Little  Adolph  will 
look  like  an  angel  in  it.  It  seems  in- 
credible,  but  the  clothes  you  made  for 
him  so  recently  are  already  too  small.  His 
grandma  says,  'That  child  grows  astonishingly;  I 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  101 

never  saw  anything  like  it;'  and  really,  Linnie, 
two  of  his  six  little  teeth  came  in  his  sleep;  we 
scarcely  noticed  them.  And  he  stands  alone 
now ;  his  papa  and  I  shall  have  to  watch  him,  or 
he  will  soon  run  away  from  us !" 

The  happy  mother  laughed  merrily.  Linnie 
stood  near,  her  face  beaming  with  sympathetic, 
smiling  pleasure.  This  very  joyful  woman  and 
mother  would  be  better  known  as  the  wife  of 
Captain  Von  Drambow — a  pretty  little  person, 
in  whose  house  the  seamstress  of  Stettin  was  this 
day  engaged.  Her  delight  in  the  child,  as  well 
as  in  everything  inclosed  by  these  four  walls, 
from  attic  to  cellar,  from  parlor  to  kitchen, 
spontaneously  manifested  itself  in  every  word  and 
look,  as  plainly  as  the  exuberant  May-growth 
under  the  fostering  care  of  the  ever-increasing 
warm  weather. 

Linnie  appeared,  truly,  "to  belong  to  the 
military."  She  liked  to  be  here.  This  pure, 
fresh  happiness  reacted  upon  herself,  and  com- 
pensated for  what  she  was  obliged  to  communi- 
cate so  largely  to  others.  Sometimes  she  grew 
very  thoughtful  over  it,  and  compared  the  pretty 
little  dwelling  at  the  entrance  of  Griinhofs 
principal  avenue,  with  an  island  that  Time's 
stream  might  gradually  wash  far,  far  away  into 
the  ocean  of  earthly  illusions,  earthly  tempta- 
tions and  conflicts.  She  always  felt  here  as 


102  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

though  seated  beneath  an  immense  lilac-bush, 
oppressed  with  the  heavy  perfume  of  cluster 
upon  cluster  of  blooms,  which  formed  a  close 
bower  over  her  head  as  if  to  shut  out  the  strug- 
gling sunbeams,  and  in  the  midst  of  whose  over- 
hanging and  intertwined  branches  there  was  a 
nightingale  singing. 

The  forenoon  was  rapidly  passing.  Linnie, 
enjoying  her  work,  occasionally  looked  up  to 
follow  the  bright,  active  movements  of  the 
young  woman,  who  glided  here  and  there,  now 
armed  with  a  busy  duster,  then  with  a  small 
watering-pot. 

"What  a  squirrel !  A  happy  smile  is  always 
on  her  face,  except  when  the  pocket  book  is  forth- 
coming ;  then  follows  a  very  serious,  thoughtful 
expression,"  reflected  the  seamstress. 

It  was  necessarily  a  small  pocket-book,  and 
carried  around  everywhere  in  the  pocket  of  a 
fancy  little  apron,  like  a  loadstone.  Wide  as 
the  chasm  was  that  separated  Frau  Von  Dram- 
bow  from  Linnie's  friend,  the  shoemaker  on  the 
wharf,  there  was  one  point  of  agreement  be- 
tween them, — a  wish  to  possess  everything 
"without  money  and  without  price." 

"What  a  pity,"  the  little  woman  usually  la- 
mented, with  a  light  sigh,  "when  people  are  so 
happy,  and  have  such  a  splendid  boy,  that  we 
can  not  save  something!"  And  she  really  did 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTlN.  103 

not  save  much ;  but  when  the  last  day  of  the 
month  came,  the  little  pocket-book  was  held  up 
before  her  husband  with  a  certain  triumphant 
pride,  and  what  remained  in  it  was  jingled  in 
his  ears  with — "  What  do  you  say  now,  Adolph  ? 
I  have  saved  that!" 

"I  have  also  saved,"  he  would  reply  mer- 
rily, shaking  the  contents  of  his  purse  on  the 
table.  Then  they  would  consult  over  what  was 
needed  in  the  household;  and  although  they  had 
but  little,  it  was  always  enough,  because  they 
loved  each  other,  and  from  the  full-blown  flower 
of  actuality  they  extracted  willingly  and  thank- 
fully every  drop  of  honey. 

It  was  incontestably  a  slight  weakness  of  this 
pleasant  little  woman  that  she  loved  to  pose  her 
husband,  not  only  before  the  servants,  but  also 
before  Linnie,  as  a  very  stern,  exacting  man,  to 
whom  one  must  be  very  circumspect,  respectful, 
and  even  stand  in  awe.  She  was  secretly  flat- 
tered that  this  great,  broad-shouldered  captain, 
to  whom  a  sergeant  every  morning  brought  a 
huge  packet  of  sealed  letters,  on  tiptoe,  and 
before  whom  a  whole  company  presented  "front 
face,"  wore  rosy  fetters  and  chains  of  her  own 
weaving ;  willing,  for  love's  sake,  even  to  lie 
at  her  feet  and  feel  her  dainty  slipper  press  his 
strong  neck.  But  she  would  never  wish  that — 
God  forbid !  It  was  far  lovelier  to  follow  him, 


104  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

and  sweeten  his  laborious  and  often  arduous 
life-work. 

The  sound  of  a  horse's  hoof  was  now  heard 
on  the  street. 

"For  goodness'  sake,  there  comes  the  mas- 
ter!" and  Frau  Von  Drambow  flew  down  the 
stairs  leading  to  the  kitchen.  "Is  Christian 
here  to  take  the  horse?  Quick,  quick — the 
breakfast !  Do  n't  let  the  eggs  be  hard  ;  he  dis- 
likes hard  eggs.  Come  here,  Henrietta,  I  will 
teach  you  how  to  do  them — so.  Put  this  on 
the  hearth  ;  place  the  eggs  in  boiling  water;  then 
count  one,  two,  three,  until  ten.  Do  you  under- 
stand, Henrietta?" 

"Yes,  indeed,  ma'am." 

"But  here  he  is  already." 

She  flew  up  the  stairs,  and  was  immediately 
seized  behind  the  door  by  two  strong  arms — 
very  carefully  for  one  accustomed  to  field  serv- 
ice, covered  with  dust,  and  a  bronzed  forehead 
dripping  with  perspiration. 

Christian,  the  faithful  horse-servant,  witnessed 
this  loving  side  scene,  and  smiled  over  it  in  his 
quiet  way  as  he  led  the  prancing  bay  to  the 
stable. 

Captain  Von  Drambow  was  a  very  large  man, 
with  a  full  red  beard,  which  fell  down  over  his 
breast,  and  eyes  that  shone  clearly  as  two  sap- 
phires. His  little  wife  always  tripped  along 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  105 

beside  him  like  a  child.  She  had  taken  his  hel- 
met, carrying  it  in  both  arms,  like  a  dwarf 
shield-bearer  manages  the  weapons  of  a  giant. 

"How  is  Adolph  ?"  was  the  first  question. 

"O,  he  has  just  taken  two  bottles  of  milk, 
and  has  been  asleep  for  an  hour.  No  one  ever 
dares  to  disturb  that  child." 

"Pomeranian  youngster,  he  begins  early!" 
laughed  the  proud  father. 

They  turned  away  from  the  bed  where  the 
little  one  lay  sleeping,  and  entered  the  living- 
room. 

"Come  here,"  said  the  mamma;  "I  will 
wipe  your  forehead ;  but  you  will  have  to  sit 
down  !" 

Her  finely  perfumed  handkerchief  passed  ca- 
ressingly over  his  temples.  It  was  very  agree- 
able to  the  sturdy  captain,  and  the  canary  con- 
tributed his  quota  of  the  welcome  in  the  loudest 
warbling.  It  made  a  pretty  impression  to  see 
the  beloved  reclining  in  that  cozy  room  on  a 
sofa,  while  preparations  for  the  breakfast  pro- 
ceeded actively. 

"Isn't  it  true,  Adolph,  that  the  order  for  the 
Fifth  Army  Corps  to  prepare  to  move  has  been 
countermanded?"  inquired  the  little  wife,  as  she 
was  daintily  cutting  slices  of  bread  on  the  table. 
"So  much  I  do  know,  that  often  such  orders 
are  received,  and  there  is  no  war  after  all." 


106  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

The  captain  looked  upon  her  as  she  stood 
there  so  rosy  and  happy,  and  then  glanced  over 
her  shoulder  toward  the  tenderly  guarded  sanc- 
tuary, with  its  pretty  draperies,  where  little 
Adolph  lay  sleeping  in  his  beautiful  willow  cradle. 

"But  if  it  should  come,"  he  replied  with  an 
effort  of  cheerfulness,  ' '  in  spite  of  former  ex- 
ceptions, you  would  be  the  first  to  consent  for 
me  to  engage  in  it,  for  God,  the  king,  and 
fatherland — " 

"Adolph,  what  do  you  mean?"  she  said, 
turning  instantly  pale. 

He  made  no  reply,  but  stroked  his  beard. 

"Adolph,  will  there  be  war?" 

Captain  Von  Drambow  sprang  up:  "Yes, 
my  dear,  there  will  be  war ;  and  I  trust  you 
will  deport  yourself  as  a  Drambow  should." 
He  had  expanded  his  nostrils  and  erected  his 
form  as  though  the  little  room  had  suddenly 
become  straitened;  but  she  had  flown  to  the 
bed  chamber,  where  he  heard  her  sobs. 

"What  a  foolish  little  wife  you  are!"  follow- 
ing her.  "What  would  the  king  do — "  But 
the  words  choked  him ;  he  saw  her  lying  on 
the  floor  in  a  swoon,  her  arms  extended  towards 
the  cradle  as  if  seeking  courage  there.  The 
husband  and  father  compressed  his  lips  firmly. 
Did  he  realize  a  measure  of  the  truth,  that  it 
were  better  for  military  officers  not  to  marry? 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  107 

But,  surely,  the  greater  the  sacrifice,  the  greater 
the  deed. 

"Come,  come,  Mathilda,"  he  said,  raising 
her,  "this  is  not  the  kind  of  wife  for  a  Pome- 
ranian soldier.  Haven't  you  always  reproved 
me  because  I  was  not  religious  enough  ?  Now  the 
time  has  arrived  when  your  Christian  faith  must 
suffice  for  us  both.  God  is  with  us ;  he  will 
sustain  us." 

"Have  the  marching  orders  been  received?" 
she  asked,  almost  inaudibly. 

"They  are  hourly  expected,  my  dear." 

As  he  spoke  he  raised  his  head  to  listen ; 
then  drew  her  to  a  window,  where  they  could 
look  down  on  the  street.  People  were  running 
hither  and  thither,  crying  and  gesticulating. 
There  was  evidently  an  ever-increasing  excite- 
ment, which  seemed  to  be  attracted  toward  the 
center  of  the  city.  The  tumult  was  like  the 
rushing  of  mighty  waters,  and  men  scattered  as 
if  an  immense  ant-hill  had  been  ruthlessly  torn 
open  by  a  careless  traveler's  staff. 

"The  orders  are  here,"  exclaimed  the  cap- 
tain, leaving  his  wife,  and  calling  Christian,  who 
made  his  appearance  with  the  velocity  of  light- 
ning. In  his  excitement  he  vainly  endeavored 
to  maintain  his  position  of  servant,  while  he 
looked  with  deepest  sympathy  upon  his  mistress, 
who  had  retreated  to  the  sofa,  weeping  bitterly. 


lo8  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

"Bring  my  trunk  from  the  attic;  examine 
the  saddle-bags ;  take  this  revolver  to  the  gun- 
smith's. Mathilda,  my  love,  what  is  the  condi- 
tion of  my  underwear?" 

Bells  were  ringing  without.  An  orderly 
brought  the  imperative  command  for  the  chief 
men  and  staff  officers  to  assemble  at  the  colonel's. 

Christian  sprang  after  a  clothes-brush,  brought 
helmet  and  sword,  and  a  few  minutes  later  the 
captain  hastened  to  the  seamstress  with :  "  Please 
look  after  my  wife.  You  know  what  to  do  for 
her ;  you  have  gone  in  and  out  of  her  mother's 
family  for  many  years." 

Linnie  immediately  arose  to  carry  out  his 
wishes.  The  sun  shone  clearly  in  the  pretty, 
cozy  apartment;  the  breakfast  was  still  upon  the 
table ;  but  the  canary  no  longer  sang ;  he  was 
holding  his  little  head  on  one  side  in  mute  sur- 
prise, as  if  in  the  midst  of  weeping  his  province 
was  silence. 

"My  dear  lady,"  entreated  the  seamstress, 
tenderly,  "this  is  a  dispensation  from  the  Lord*. 
War  and  peace  are  in  his  hands." 

"He — he — asks  too  much — from  me,"  was 
the  sobbing,  stammering  reply. 

"And  he  lifts  up  the  little  flowers  which 
have  been  beaten  down  by  the  storm.  Do  not 
weep  so  much;  you  will  waken  little  Adolph." 

Frau  Von  Drambow  made  an  attempt  to  sit  up. 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  109 

Her  red,  swollen  eyes  looked  despairingly  into 
Linnie's  good,  earnest  face,  as  she  stroked  the 
little  woman's  cold  hands. 

"I  was  only  fifteen  when  I  first  met  him,  and 
we  loved  each  other  from  that  time — seven  long 
years.  Everybody  said  I  was  foolish  to  love  a 
lieutenant.  I  knew  it,  but  I  could  not  help  it. 
I  asked  God  to  stand  by  us,  and  he  did  in  the 
reorganization  of  the  army.  Dear  Adolph  soon 
advanced  to  the  captaincy,  and  then  we  were 
married,  and  my  friends  sang : 

1  She  has  spun  the  golden  fleece 
Seven  years  in  the  rocks.' 

I  did  not  really  spin — that  is  no  longer  fash- 
ionable— but  I  have  woven  into  my  love  many, 
many  thanks  for  my  dear,  dear  Adolph,  and  the 
past  two  years  have  gone  like  a  dream,  until 
awakened  by  the  terrible  thunder  of  the  cannon  !" 

"Every  ball  doesn't  kill,"  interposed  Linnie, 
while  a  shudder  passed  through  her  own  heart. 

"  It  must  strike  some  one,"  argued  Frau  Von 
Drambow,  softly  ;  ' '  no,  not  one,  but  many ;  and 
when  I  think  of  it — "  she  pressed  her  hands  to 
her  eyes. 

"My  dear  lady,  your  husband  has  inquired 
about  his  underwear." 

The  little  woman  arose  with  some  force, — 
"Ah,  yes,  Linnie,  you  are  right  in  reminding 


no  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

me.  He  must  not  go  away  as  if  none  cared 
for  him.  But  it  came  with  such  frightful  sud- 
denness." 

"We  must  make  your  husband,  the  captain, 
a  silk  shirt.  He  can  not  always  have  white  ones 
laundried  on  the  march,  and  a  silk  one  is  equally 
pleasant  for  heat  and  cold." 

"Is  it?  Then  he  must  have  one.  Put  aside 
little  Adolph's  dress,  Linnie" — renewed  sobs. 
"The  darling  will  not  be  dressed  much  when 
his  papa  is  away  from  home." 

She  went  to  a  closet  and  brought  out  several 
garments.  "See;  this  wine-colored  one  is  still 
beautiful.  I  wore  it  the  day  before  we  were 
married.  It  was  trimmed  with  roses." 

"We  will  make  it  up  with  'prayers  and  sup- 
plication," said  Linnie,  consolingly;  and  she 
was  soon  by  the  table  engaged  in  the  new  work. 

The  child  soon  awakened  with  lusty  cries, 
and  Frau  Von  Drambow's  hands  were  so  full  of 
work  she  did  not  dare  yield  to  her  trouble. 

It  was  now  late  in  the  afternoon.  Steel-blue 
clouds  were  piled  up  over  the  parade  ground ; 
the  atmosphere  lay  heavy  as  lead  on  the  earth 
that  was  perishing  for  rain.  The  apple-trees 
had  not  a  solitary  bud  to  show,  but  were  re- 
splendent with  full  blossoms.  But  it  surprised 
no  one  that  passers  by  did  not  stop  to  look 
through  the  lattice  to  admire  their  beauty.  Cana- 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  HI 

ries  and  apple-trees  became  very  commonplace 
affairs.  Christian  walked  untiringly  from  house 
to  stable,  across  the  yard  to  and  from  the  stall, 
carrying  little  Adolph  on  his  left  arm  and  va- 
rious equipments  on  his  right,  in  this  way 
making  his  war  preparations. 

Before  the  kitchen  window  the  servant-girl's 
head  was  seen  enveloped  in  clouds  of  steam ;  and 
as  Christian  passed  from  time  to  time,  he  and 
the  little  one  gave  her  a  friendly  nod.  The 
young  mistress  might  as  easily  have  tamed  lions 
and  hyenas  in  her  house  as  these  Stettin  maids, 
who  yielded  nothing  to  the  Berliners  in  the 
assertion  of  their  assumed  "rights."  But  this 
Henrietta  wore  the  same  yoke  as  Christian,  and 
therefore  washed  with  military  zeal,  rejoicing  in 
the  smiles  of  little  Adolph,  because  inspired  by 
his  attendant. 

The  captain  was  still  on  duty.  His  little 
home  presented  a  scene  of  confusion  and  dis- 
order. The  former  sunbeams,  which  had  always 
been  permitted  to  play  amid  the  love-tokens 
scattered  about,  seemed  wounded  at  the  change. 
Hammers  and  nails,  bits  of  cord,  pieces  of 
paper,  empty  boxes  with  missing  covers  to  be 
supplied,  lay  everywhere.  Workmen  came  and 
went ;  orderlies  carried  huge  packets  in  and  out. 
It  was  like  the  activity  surrounding  a  hive  of 
bees.  In  the  midst  of  the  rush  and  hurry 


112  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

sounded  the  shrill  clang  of  the  door-bell  at 
brief  intervals,  bringing  terror  to  the  little  wife's 
sensitive  nervous  system. 

This  time  Linnie  hastened  to  admit  Asta 
Von  Geldern,  who  came  to  visit  her  friend  Ma- 
thilda. She  extended  her  hands  breathlessly  with, 
"How  is  Mathilda?  How  does  she  bear  it?" 

The  latter  came  out  from  the  bed-chamber, 
and  began  to  weep  anew  at  the  sight  of  her  friend. 

"Wherever  I  go,  I  find  tears,"  exclaimed 
Asta.  "It  is  something  unheard-of  to  say  so 
of  papa,  but  I  wager  he  weeps  also ;  otherwise 
why  should  he  shut  himself  in  his  study?  why 
grumble  constantly  down  in  his  beard,  '  My 
king  has  no  use  for  me  ?'  Whoever  comes  in 
his  way  gets  a  share  of  the  war,  I  can  tell  you; 
and  he  laments  over  his  disabled  leg,  and — 
it  is-  simply  terrible  to  be  obliged  to  hear  such 
things.  On  this  account  I  ran  off  for  some 
comfort  from  you,  Mathilda ;  but  it  seems  I  am 
'  out  of  the  frying-pan  into  the  fire. '  One  weeps 
because  he  can  't  go  to  the  war,  and  the  other 
because  he  is  obliged  to  go.  That  is  more  than 
horrible." 

"Asta,  Asta!  you  have  no  heart." 

'"A  young  girl's  heart  is  free  and  light, 

And  sighs  and  tears  together 

Sit  in  her  heart,  as  far  from  sight 

As  an  eagle  in  foul  weather.' 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  113 

But  I  have  come  to  help  you,  Mathilda,  in 
practice  as  well  as  theory.  I  hoped  to  find  you 
more  like  the  Spartan  wives  and  mothers.  You 
know  they  adorned  their  heroes  with  garlands 
of  flowers,  and  sang  triumphal  songs  with  them 
before  they  went  to  the  fray.  Is  the  blood  of  a 
German  less  noble  than  that  of  a  Greek?  I 
flew  across  the  King's  Plaza  on  the  wings  of 
enthusiasm,  proud  to  see  the  Prussian  flag  un- 
furled there,  and  the  Prussian  sword  torn  from 
its  scabbard — proud  to  be  the  friend  of  an  active 
captain's  wife ;  but — but  the  consort  of  Com- 
pany 8  of  the  King's  Grenadier  Regiment  clothes 
herself  in  sackcloth  and  ashes.  Mathilda,  stop 
crying;  I  am  ashamed  of  you!" 

"If  you  had  such  a  husband  and  such  a  child, 
you  would  cry,  too,"  sobbed  Frau  Von  Dram- 
bow  with  increased  violence. 

"Well,  I  can  not  place  myself  in  exactly 
such  a  position,"  pursued  Asta,  throwing  her 
pretty  nose  in  the  air  proudly;  "but  would  you 
have  your  incomparable  Adolph  remain  behind, 
to  drill  the  Home  Guards  and  muster  recruits, 
while  his  comrades  storm  Bohemia  and  gather 
roses  ''and  laurels  ?  By  roses,  I  mean  wounds, 
Mathilda,  that  result  from  light  shooting,  and 
which  make  our  dances  so  much  more  inter- 
esting." 

"No,    Asta;  I  would   not   have  that  either. 

10 


114  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

I  don't  know  what  I  wish.  The  best  thing  for 
me  would  be  to  crawl  into  a  corner  and  die,  I 
am  so  unhappy." 

"Mathilda,  Mathilda!  I  can  not  endure  it  to 
see  you  so  carried  away.  I  am  in  a  state  of 
nervous  prickle  from  unrest,  and  must  have 
something  to  do.  Let  me  do  something  for  you, 
or  I  shall  disguise  myself  and  enlist  as  a  volun- 
teer;" and  she  began  to  sing  the  words  of  a 
military  song  with  a  light  and  sprightly  air,  quite 
the  opposite  of  her  friend's : 

"The  drums  beat, 

The  fifes  play  ; 
My  dearest  one 

Goes  to  the  fray. 
The  lances  rise, 

The  people  sway; 
How  my  heart  beats, 

This  bloody  day ! 
O  for  a  doublet, 
A  hose,  and  hat ; 

Then  I  '11  away  !" 

Frau  Von  Drambow  could  not  resist  the 
song  in  the  manner  in  which  it  was  given. 
Asia's  sparkling  eyes  (laughing  beneath  her  hus- 
band's helmet,  which  she  had  seized  from  Chris- 
tian's busy  hands,  and  placed  on  her  own  fair 
locks)  twinkled  in  true  serio-comic  fashion.  The 
baby  crowed,  and  reached  out  for  its  polished, top, 
and  Christian  whose  mien,  had  been  most  serious. 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  115 

now  expanded  into  his  usual  long-drawn  smile. 
Asta  continued : 

"I  followed  him, 

And  everywhere 
Went  through  the  fight, 

To  do  and  dare  ! 
We  shot  them  down  ; 

We  gained  the  day! 
I  'd  be  a  man, 

A  man  alway ! 
Hurrah  !  hurrah ! 
I  'd  be  a  man, 

A  man  alway  !" 

See  Mathilda,  this  is  the  way  I  should  look  at 
the  affair  if  I  were  in  your  place." 

Mathilda  could  not  refrain  from  smiling  faintly, 
but  faintly  as  a  little  sunbeam  sometimes  peers 
through  a  deep,  lowering,  dripping  cloud,  then 
vanishes. 

"  It  is  well  you  came, ' '  she  said  softly.  ' '  Will 
you  really  help  me  to  pack  his  trunk?  It  must 
only  be  a  very  small  one,  and  therefore  I  must 
select  carefully  the  most  necessary  things." 

They  went  up  and  down  stairs  together, 
emptying  and  refilling  this  and  that  drawer  and 
box,  meanwhile  consulting  with  the  most  ear- 
nest gravity  over  all, — two  very  pleasant  per- 
sonages, in  their  inner  beings  as  well  as  in  their 
external  appearances ;  remarkably  different  from 
each  other ;  and  for  that  very  reason  inseparably 


Il6  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

united  by  the  warmest  affections.  Asta  was  a 
few  years  younger  than  Mathilda.  Some  time 
later  we  find  the  former  seated  beneath  the  large 
apple-tree,  sewing  upon  the  sleeve  of  a  wine- 
colored  silk  army-shirt,  while  the  latter  was 
busily  engaged  in  writing.  The  first  excitement 
over,  the  marching  orders,  which  swept  through 
old  Stettin  like  a  whirlwind,  had  now  somewhat 
abated,  and  Captain  Von  Drambow's  little  home 
presented  once  more  a  picture  of  blooming 
peace ;  but  the  extravagantly  beaming  expres- 
sion of  merriment  with  which  Fraulein  Von  Gel- 
dern  had  endeavored  to  dispel  her  friend's 
distress  had  entirely  disappeared  from  her  face. 
She  sat  there  at  work  as  if  her  compressed  lips 
betrayed  only  a  battle  with  her  own  inner  self, 
her  hands  almost  unconsciously  uplifted  from 
time  to  time  in  a  gesture  of  impatient  unrest. 
Was  it  on  account  of  the  myriads  of  steel-blue 
guns  with  which  the  surrounding  woods  swarmed, 
or  the  result  of  the  sultry  and  oppressive  atmos- 
phere of  this  eventful  day  ?  or  was  it,  rather,  the 
spiritual  vision  of  a  noble,  striking,  manly  presence 
as  it  appeared  lifting  her  from  the  frightful  depths 
of  the  vast  green  water?  She  threw  the  sewing 
aside,  and  sprang  lightly  upon  the  bench  where 
she  had  been  sitting.  What  did  she  expect  to  see 
from  there  ?  Perhaps  a  glimpse  of  the  silver 
flashes  of  the  distant  lake  ?  This  was  impossible  ; 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  117 

and  with  head  on  one  side,  as  a  doubtful  canary 
examining  its  surroundings,  she  looked  up  into  the 
tree  as  if  she  longed  to  climb  amid  its  topmost 
branches.  But  there  were  too  many  passers-by 
for  this  experiment ;  and  she  must  be  content  to 
dream  of  the  sunny  water-course,  with  its  reeds 
and  rushes,  its  sleepy,  murmuring  waves  inces- 
santly chafing  the  grassy  stems,  and  to  realize 
the  impossibility  of  eternally  enjoying  that  se- 
cluded idyl  under  the  willows,  amid  the  sportive 
butterflies.  But  she  dreamed  on  ;  and  the  scene 
drifted  out  upon  the  water,  with  its  frightfully 
overwhelming  reminiscences;  the  green  crystal 
abyss ;  voices  of  enticing  water-nymphs ;  the 
loss  of  consciousness ;  the  gliding  down,  down, 
deeper  down,  as  if  by  the  power  of  invisible 
arms ;  the  pitiless  water,  with  its  prey !  Then 
the  terrors  of  death,  escaped  by  the  succor  of 
strong  arms  lifting  her  to  the  realms  of  light. 
Further  she  dared  not  dream  ;  but  with  it  came 
the  sweet,  unconscious  awakening  of  her  first 
love ;  and  so  deeply  was  she  absorbed  she  failed 
to  hear  an  approaching  footstep  until  Elmbach 
stood  before  her.  He  had  entered  the  garden, 
and,  observing  the  young  girl  by  the  apple-tree, 
would  have  turned  aside  in  passing.  His  heart 
was  deeply  suffering,  but  suddenly  what  had  con- 
cerned the  political  situation  of  Europe  now  fell 
from  his  eyes  as  scales,  and  the  war's  outlook 


1 1 8  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

had  something  in  it  appalling.  He  who  not 
only  lived  poetry,  but  whose  every  surging  drop 
of  life's  blood  was  poetry,  which  made  him, 
even  to  every-day,  commonplace  things,  suscep- 
tible and  sensitive, — that  he  should  play  his  role 
in  a  world's  great  drama,  amid  the  roar  of  can- 
non and  strife  of  arms,  seemed  incredible.  And 
yet,  over  and  above  all  these  emotions,  beamed 
constantly  a  star,  to  which  he  lifted  his  yearning 
soul  in  solitary  hours,  and  for  whose  sake  he  had 
presumed  to  improve  upon  the  King  of  Poets 
by  obliterating  the  word  "not"  in  the  sentiment, 
and  repeating  in  the  quiet  of  his  solitude: 

"A  man  does — long  for  a  star." 

He  had  reached  this  degree ;  and  now  Asta 
was  suddenly  before  him,  in  the  midst  of  the 
luxuriant,  rosy  maze  which  the  beautiful  tree's 
bending  branches  wove  into  the  loveliest  spring 
roof  over  their  heads. 

"I  have  not  had  an  opportunity  to  thank 
you,"  she  stammered,  beginning  to  tremble; 
"if  I  still  live,  it  is  you — what  can  I  do  to 
assure  you  of  my  gratitude?" 

The  blood  rushed  to  the  young  captain's  face. 
He  felt  at  that  moment  that  he  loved  her  unut- 
terably ;  that  he  had  a  sacred  riglvt  to  her,  and 
that  an  opportunity  like  this  might  never  occur 
again.  If  he  should  saturate  a  strange  land 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTlN.  119 

with  his  blood,  far,  far  from  her,  still  it  would 
be  worth  a  life  to  have  once  spoken  to  her  of  his 
love, — forgetful  of  his  foolish,  strong  resistance 
to  her  noble  father;  forgetful  of  the  enmity  be- 
tween the  Elmbach  firm  and  the  escutcheon  Von 
Geldern ;  forgetful  of  the  chasm  widened  into  an 
abyss  which  separated  Castor  from  Pollux. 

War  sweeps  over  the  land  like  a  wave  of  fire, 
reducing  to  ashes  many  a  cozy  hearth.  Into  the 
blazing  flame  the  swallows  fall  because  their 
homes  are  destroyed.  Leaves  and  grass  shrivel 
beneath  its  glowing  breath ;  but  even  as  it  tears 
asunder  lip  from  lip  and  heart  from  heart,  so 
also  does  it  tear  away  the  husks  from  many  an 
obstinately  held  prejudice,  many  a  concealed 
cowardice,  many  a  buried  egotism,  throwing 
them  open  to  the  light  of  day,  ashamed  longer 
to  hang  their  tinsel  and  tatters  of  a  past  time 
around  their  pusillanimity.  And  to  a  secret  love 
it  is  also  like  the  germinating  flower-seed  in  the 
protecting  earth.  It  melts  the  wax,  it  breaks 
the  coat  of  mail;  and  what  had  never  dared  to 
rule,  now  pushes  itself  forth  and  becomes  an 
active  life,  using  its  new  powers  with  increased 
eloquence.  Ah !  if  one  must  die,  and  perhaps 
soon,  he  may  be  permitted  to  taste  the  full  cup 
of  earthly  existence  at  least  once  for  himself. 

Asta  stood  before  him,  the  image  of  life  and 
love,  and  he  spoke !  He  would  lay  no  bonds 


120  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

upon  her,  inclose  her  liberty  in  no  narrow  circle 
by  a  ring,  but  wait  until  he  had  fulfilled  his  duty. 
It  was  scarcely  a  wooing,  but  rather  an  impulsive 
outburst  of  strong,  passionate  love:  "When  I 
return,  beloved,  and  you  look  favorably  upon 
me,  then  will  I  battle  for  you ;  then  shall  we 
build  a  bridge  over  the  abyss,  and  in  spite  of  all 
Grecian  or  Stettin  friendship,  I  will  repeat  again, 
I  love  you." 

It  had  all  occurred  quickly,  as  characteristic 
of  the  Prussian  soldier,  and  Prussian  duty  and 
service  now  called  him  away  from  this  sweet  hour. 
He  would  leave  her,  but  she  clung  fondly  to  his 
strong  arm.  Ah !  the  sword  that  had  pierced 
Mathilda's  soul  was  now  felt  in  her  own  breast ! 

"Drambow  comes,"  he  whispered,  with  a 
gleam  of  gratitude  in  his  dark  eyes;  "time 
melts  in  our  hands  as  wax.  Let  me  be  con- 
stantly in  your  heart,  dear  one,  as  you  are  ever 
in  mine." 

Tearing  himself  away,  he  passed  on,  turning 
again  to  look  upon  her  once  cnore.  She  sat  be- 
neath the  apple-tree,  her  face  hidden  in  her  hands ; 
and  when  he  left  the  house  later  with  some 
friends,  she  was  still  there,  waiting  until  the  last 
sound  of  his  footsteps  died  away.  Then  she 
arose  and  gathered  up  the  fallen  blossoms,  which 
his  spurred  boots  had  pressed,  for  she  had  received 
from  him  no  other  love-token. 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  121 

"Ah!  love  and  pain 

Make  their  own  measure  of  all  things  that  be, 
No  clock's  slow  ticking  marks  their  deathless  train ; 
The  life  they  own  is  not  the  life  we  see : 
Love's  single  moment  is  eternity." 

"How  pale  you  look,  dear  Fraulein  Asta ! 
Has  anything  occurred  while  you  were  in  the 
garden?"  inquired  Linnie  with  solicitude,  when 
she  entered  the  house. 

The  young  girl  smiled.  "It  is  only  the  time 
in  which  we  live  that  oppresses  all  hearts. 
Mathilda  goes  around  like  a  shadow,  and  how  can 
I  help  feeling  it?" 

And  yet,  only  a  short  time  previously,  she 
had  twittered  like  a  canary : 

"  The  drums  beat, 
The  fifes  play." 

The  seamstress  shook  her  head  thoughtfully : 
"Who  may  know  what  passes  in  a  young  girl's 
heart?" 

The  following  day  was  Sunday,  and  the  bells 
rang  out  early  all  over  the  city.  From  St. 
Luke's  at  Griinhof,  from  St.  John's  and  the 
castle  church,  from  the  garrison,  and  from  St. 
James,  came  the  prolonged  soft  peals  of  their 
festive  clang. 

Linnie  stood,  as  in  the  beginning  of  our  story, 
a  picture  of  peacefulness  in  the  frame  of  her  open 

window.     Her  hands  were  folded.     A  Sabbatic 
ii 


122  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

calm  and  sanctity  pervaded  her  being.  If  the 
little  mansard  home  was  beautiful  during  the 
week  in  order  and  cleanliness,  it  seemed  to-day 
to  be  adorned  with  an  especial  grace.  The 
old  mother  sat  up  in  bed  reading  a  hymn-book, 
not  without  a  certain  rigid  propriety,  as  .  if 
she  would  have  it  understood  that  her  occupa- 
tion was  meritorious.  In  a  stone  jar  on  the 
table  stood  a  bouquet  of  lilacs  and  narcissus. 
Linnie,  who  now  turned  to  engage  in  some  neces- 
sary household  preparations — for  she  wished  to 
attend  the  castle  church  at  ten  o'clock — glided 
around  in  a  fine  black  dress,  with  the  grace  and 
movements  of  a  Sunday  angel  .who  feared  to 
disturb  the  glorious  calm.  She  had  risen  be- 
times in  order  to  leave  nothing  neglected  or  hur- 
ried, and  now  everything  had  been  accomplished 
without  overexertion,  something  in  which  not 
every  eager  church  attendant  succeeds. 

She  entered  the  old  sanctuary,  in  whose 
gloomy  aisles  the  sunbeams  came  dimly  through 
the  stained  Gothic  windows,  and  took  her  some- 
what solitary  seat.  With  bowed  head,  she  ut- 
tered a  prayer  from  the  depths  of  her  sincere 
soul  for  the  furtherance  of  her  faith,  for  a  Sun- 
day blessing  and  forgiveness  of  sins,  in  which 
was  included  thanksgiving  for  mercies  received. 
It  was  as  yet  rather  empty  in  the  vast  edifice 
when  the  organ  prelude  softly  began.  In  spirit 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  123 

appeared  those  whom  the  seamstress  had  served 
during  the  week — all  seeming  to  entreat,  "Pray 
for  us !  Pray  for  us !"  as  she  presented  their 
names  before  the  throne  of  Eternal  Grace. 

The  opening  hymns  and  an  earnest  discourse 
followed.  The  clergyman,  imbued  with  apostolic 
fire,  preached  eloquently.  He  was  a  gifted  man, 
reminding  one  forcibly  of  Martin  Luther  in  his 
utterances  as  well  as  his  external  appearance. 
The  occurrences  of  the  past  week  were  seized  as 
an  opportunity  to  direct  the  people  to  repent- 
ance and  confession  of  sin.  In  the  fearful 
gloom  which  lay  upon  all  hearts — the  church  was 
now  crowded,  many  being  present  not  usually 
to  be  found  there — his  powerful  words  resounded 
like  rolling  thunder.  His  language,  incisive  and 
penetrating,  flashed  like  lightning  upon  the  con- 
science, exhorting  to  repentance,  as  well  as  pre- 
senting God's  mercy.  Linnie  listened  with  the 
deepest  attention.  There  was  very  little  Phari 
saism  in  her  nature,  and  when  the  call  came  for 
repentance  it  appealed  to  her  own  heart  first, 
and  only  upon  rare  occasions  did  she  apply  it  to 
others.  Fighting  against  the  sins  which  per- 
sisted in  asserting  themselves,  was  never  re- 
laxed. The  older  she  became,  the  more  she 
realized  and  recognized  the  perversity  of  human 
selfishness,  and  bewailed  with  bitterest  lamenta- 
tion the  wicked  inclinations  discovered  in  her- 


124  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

self.  Precisely  because  she  abhorred  them,  they 
seemed  to  obtrude  themselves ;  and  when,  by 
the  grace  of  God,  she  was  enabled  to  obtain  the 
victory,  the  recollection  of  these  offenses  filled 
her  soul  with  terror ;  but  she  did  not  allow  her- 
self to  become  discouraged. 

"Yet,"  she  persisted,  "for  the  very  reason 
that  I  am  so  hateful,  I  shall  stay  close  by  Thee ; 
for  Thou  leadest  me  by  Thy  counsel,  and  shalt 
afterward  receive  me  to  glory.  I  would,  in  my 
sinful  flesh,  be  always  clothed  in  purple  and  fine 
linen,  but  Thou  knowest  best,  and  I  cling  to 
Thee ;"  and  this  she  did. 

When  she  had  returned  from  public  worship, 
the  place  had  indeed  been,  to  her  waiting  soul, 
the  house  of  God ;  she  had  been  fed  from  the 
Lord's  table,  and  had  obtained  strength  and 
courage  to  renounce  temporal  joys.  With  an 
earnest,  quiet  expression  of  peace  and  calm,  she 
appeared  before  her  mother.  Their  Sunday  after- 
noons were  usually  spent  together  alone.  There 
was  need  of  spiritual  and  physical  rest  after  the 
exacting,  continued  duties  of  the  week.  She 
was  glad  to  sit  down  in  the  old,  high-backed 
easy-chair  to  doze  a  little  ;  then  read  with  genuine 
pleasure  in  her  "Sunday  books,"  as  she  loved  to 
call  them. 

Shortly  after  five  o'clock  a  neighbor  called, to 
visit  the  mother.  The  coffee-pot  immediately 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  125 

received  an  additional  allowance,  and  soon  the 
tongues  of  the  former  old  school-mates  were  in 
lively  motion.  When  Linnie — who  had  taken 
her  nap,  read  her  book,  and  welcomed  the 
guest — perceived  she  was  no  longer  needed,  the 
suggestion  "to  take  a  walk,  you  sit  so  much," 
was  pleasantly  accepted.  She  started  out  across 
the  King's  Plaza,  this  time  turning  her  footsteps 
not  to  Grlinhof,  but  directly  toward  the  great 
city  cemetery. 

This  was  her  favorite  walk.  She  suffered  no 
very  recent  sorrow  on  account  of  the  silent  ones 
there,  but  entertained  always  a  secret  longing 
for  this  sacred  place  of  peace.  If  she  had  gone 
to  God's  house  in  the  morning,  now  in  the  even- 
ing she  would  enter  his  garden.  Many  of  the 
departed  ones  had  been  well  known  to  her;  for 
many  of  them  she  had  made  their  swaddling- 
clothes  ;  for  many  their  wedding  and  burial  gar- 
ments. Thinking  of  them  now  in  this  silence, 
she  tried  to  recollect  whether  she  had  been  to 
them  a  blessing  or  a  stumbling-stone ;  and  walk- 
ing amid  the  little  mounds,  she  read  upon  the 
marbles  the  ever-hopeful  inscriptions  concerning  a 
resurrection.  She  was  soon  seated  in  the  oldest 
part  of  the  church-yard  upon  a  half-sunken  stone, 
which  was  covered  with  a  profusion  of  wild 
growth  in  full  bloom.  She  began  to  sing  softly, 
very  softly,  so  softly  that  it  sounded  like  the  echo 


126  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

of  a   real  song,  "Jesus,   my  trust,"   and    "The 
rest  that  remaineth." 

No  one  observed  her,  and  the  few  persons  she 
saw  in  the  distance  were  all  going  toward  the 
gate ;  for  in  those  troublous  times  the  people  of 
Stettin  were  at  home,  either  preparing  some  loved 
one  for  the  war,  or  getting  ready  for  the  forward 
march  themselves.  Suddenly  a  man  dressed  in 
mourning,  leading  by  the  hand  a  little  girl, 
passed  from  a  side  path.  She  arose  quietly  and 
followed  them.  He  looked  poor,  was  tall  of 
stature,  his  face  worn,  his  hair  long  and  smooth, 
and  he  wore  a  shabby  black  coat.  His  whole 
appearance  indicated  feebleness  and  illness.  The 
little  one  looked  into  his  face  frequently,  and 
prattled  lively,  showing  to  Linnie  her  profile. 
She  seemed  to  be  four  or  five  years  old,  judging 
from  her  prematurely  old  expression,  and  talked 
incessantly,  receiving  occasional  replies  from  her 
father,  all  of  which  Linnie  overheard. 

"Father,  are  they  dead  really — all  dead?" 
"They  are  in   their  graves,   Dorothy.      How 
could  they  be  otherwise  than  dead?" 

' '  But,   papa,    why   does   the  dear  God  bring 
them  into  the  world  if  he  makes  them  die?" 
"God  makes  no  one  die,  my  child." 
"Then  it  is  only  playing  die,   and  we  come 
out  of  the  earth  again  like  the  May-bugs.     We 
have  seen  them  do  that,  papa." 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  127 

"Do  not  talk  so  foolishly,  Dorothy.  We  can 
not  compare  people  with  May-bugs.  Whither 
we  come,  and  whence  we  go,  I  know  not." 

"Ah!  but  I  want  to  know,"  pursued  the 
child,  with  confidence.  "I  learned  much  in 
school;  we  learn  everything  there.  But  where 
people  go  when  they  die — we  never  had  that 
lesson." 

"What  has  become  of  the  hymns  and  texts 
you  once  knew  so  well  ?  They  tell  us  that  good 
people  go  to  heaven,  and  the  bad — " 

"Oyes,  papa,  now  I  know.  My  grandmother 
is  there,  and  my  mother  too ;  but  Grandmother 
Hechterling  will  not  go  to  heaven." 

"How  can  you  say  so,  Dorothy?" 

"No,"  she  persisted  in  the  most  earnest  op- 
position ;  "for  if  she  went  there  it  would  be  no 
longer  beautiful.  I  do  n't  know  about  Grand- 
father Hechterling,  yet,"  she  added,  with  a  deep 
sigh;  "but  I  don't  think  he  will  go  there 
either." 

' '  Now,  now,  Dorothy  !  No  one  treats  us  so 
badly  at  the  house.  Why  do  you  talk  so?" 

Smoothing  her  dress  with  both  little  hands, 
she  said  in  low  tones:  "He  looks  at  me  so,  he 
frightens  me." 

' '  He  is  your  grandfather,  and  looking  won't 
harm  you." 

"No,  not  my  real  grandfather,"  she  exclaimed 


128  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

emphatically;  "they  are  different.  He  looks 
like  a  great  bull,  and  I  am  always  afraid  he  will 
harm  me." 

"Dorothy! — whoever  heard  of  such  ideas? 
Where  does  the  child  get  such  thoughts?" 

"Do  you  know  how  grandmother  looks?" 
she  continued  excitedly.  "  I  will  tell  you, — like 
a  real  pike,  with  lead  eyes  and  long  sharp  teeth. 
That 's  why  her  name  is  Hechterling.  My  real 
grandma's  name  was  Krause." 

"John!"  interrupted  Linnie,  softly. 

He  turned,  half  frightened:  "Linnie,  you 
here?" 

"Yes,  indeed,  John,  I  am  here." 

They  stood  opposite,  looking  at  each  other 
in  amazement.  At  the  time  of  their  enforced 
separation  her  brown  hair  had  encircled  plump, 
rosy  cheeks,  which  had  faded  in  the  lapse  of 
years.  The  canker-worm  of  human  love  had 
entered  its  chrysalis  state,  and  no  longer  wore 
its  beautiful  color  and  shining  coat,  making 
evident  time's  insidious  ravages. 

The  man  bowed  low,  and  lifted  his  child, 
stammering:  "See,  this  is  Linnie;  give  her  a 
kiss.  You  can  love  her" 

Dorothy  critically  scanned  her  from  head 
to  foot,  and  finally  pronouncing  the  verdict: 
"She  doesn't  look  like  a  bull  or  a  pike." 

"She   is  too  smart  for  a  child,"  interposed 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  129 

the  father,  apologetically.  "She  knows  how  to 
estimate  people,  and  she  won't  have  anything  to 
do  with  her  grandparents ;  which,  of  course, 
must  not  be  encouraged ;  for  they  will  always  be 
her  grandparents." 

' '  Certainly,  certainly, "  indorsed  Linnie ;  ' '  you 
must  talk  to  her,  and  she  will  get  accustomed 
to  them  in  time." 

They  walked  up  and  down  the  paths  together, 
her  kindly  glance  not  failing  to  observe  with 
pain  his  attenuated  form,  which  hung  limp  in 
his  loosely  fitting  garments. 

"We  have  not  been  prosperous,"  he  ven- 
tured, drawing  the  large  coat  over  his  breast. 
"Creditors  have  oppressed  us,  and  children  must 
bear  their  parents'  sins.  I  always  felt  this  would 
be  fhe  case  with  us.  My  father  once  dispos- 
sessed a  poor  widow  for  house-rent ;  he  took 
away  from  her  everything,  scarcely  leaving  a  pil- 
low under  her  head,  'Accursed  be  you!'  she 
cried  in  his  face  ;  'accursed  be  you  unto  the  third 
and  the  fourth  generation!'  I  stood  near  and 
she  looked  at  me,  drawing  the  folds  of  her  dress 
together  as  she  passed,  as  if  she  feared  contam- 
ination. I  have  never  forgotten  it.  I  am  the 
first  generation,  Linnie,  and  it  falls  most  heavily 
upon  me.  My  money  is  gone,  my  wife  and 
children,  except  this  one  little  girl,  are  dead,  and 
I  eat  at  a  strange  table,  where  my  parents  treat 


130  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

me  as  a  drudge  or  an  apprentice,  grudging  every 
morsel  of  food  we  are  obliged  to  receive.  How 
will  it  be  when  Dorothy  shall  need  clothes  and 
shoes — " 

"Why,  just  let  the  old  people  wrangle  over 
it,"  urged  LinnieJ;  "it  will  do  them  good  to  pay 
out  something.  One  must  not  be  anxious  when 
dealing  with  such  hard  people." 

"Yes;  but  it  wrings  my  heart,"  he  lamented 
with  a  suggestive  gesture.  "I  can  not  bear  it. 
I  was  never  intended  for  a  butcher." 

"Ah  no!  you  poor  soul,"  reflected  Linnie, 
"that  you  were  not — an  easy,  tender-hearted 
soul,  that  has  been  bruised  and  knocked  about, 
and  grown  weary  with  the  rough  companionship 
upon  the  desert  of  sin.  Some  time — who  knows 
how  soon  ? — the  Lord  will  stretch  forth  his 
almighty  arms,  and  embrace  you  with  a  gracious 
call  of  love :  '  Come  home,  my  wandering  one, 
come  home ;  return  to  the  safe  ark  of  everlasting 
rest ;  there  will  I  care  for  you,  comfort  you,  and 
provide  what  you  need.' ' 

Meanwhile  the  complaining  one  had  thrust 
his  cane  in  the  yielding  sand,  and  leaned  wearily 
upon  it,  as  though  he  needed  some  support  for 
his  weight  of  woe.  Down  his  emaciated  cheeks 
flowed  consuming  tears.  "One's  own  parents," 
he  sobbed,  "one's  own  parents  against  one  is 
hard." 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  131 

Linnie  looked  in  the  direction  of  the  child, 
who  was  pursuing  a  butterfly  in  the  distance. 
"You  should  be  so  much  better  a  father,"  she 
replied,  consolingly;  "and  we  must  not  forget 
that  we  have  a  New  as  well  as  an  Old  Testa- 
ment. God's  Word  can  not  be  trifled  with.  His 
blessing  never  rests  upon  the  miserly  and  god- 
less ;  but  if  the  son  of  the  godless  turn  to  Him, 
believing,  Christ's  blood  will  change  curses  into 
blessings.  You  will  yet  experience  this,  John; 
for  you  have  never  been  in  sympathy  with  their 
characters." 

"I  wish  I  could  walk  up  and  down  here  for- 
ever listening  to  you.  It  would  inspire  me  with 
courage.  My  blessed  wife,  I  am  sure,  would 
not  object." 

"Tell  me  about  her  now,  and  also  what  you 
desire  to  do  when  you  are  stronger.  You  can 
not  always  remain  with  your  parents.  We  must 
plan  something  different,  even  if  I  release  my 
old  bridegroom  myself."  She  said  this  with  an 
expression  of  radiant  pleasure ;  but  no  one  could 
have  spoken  more  disinterestedly.  Her  glance 
was  upon  him  and  his  child ;  her  sympathy 
there  also. 

"True  love  never  dies, "  he  answered,  warmly 

4 

pressing  her  hand. 

Yes,  the  old  mother  was  right.  With  Linnie, 
Hope  walked  in  every  footstep ;  a  sweet  trust, 


132  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

heaven's  balm,  flowed  from  her  lips.  The  child 
sprang  towards  her  with  hands  full  of  wild 
flowers.  It  was  late  when  they  separated,  and 
the  day  had  indeed  been  one  of  profit  and  rare 
interest  to  her  receptive  soul. 


V. 


"The  darts  of  anguish  fix  not  where  the  seat 
Of  suffering  hath  been  thoroughly  fortified 
By  acquiescence  in  the  Will  supreme 
For  time  and  for  eternity,  by  faith, 
Faith  absolute  in  God,  including  hope, 
And  the  defense  that  lives  in  boundless  love 
Of  his  perfections."  — WORDSWORTH. 

)T  Captain  Von  Drambow's  residence  the 
day  began  very  early.  The  morning's  first 
gray  dawn  had  roused  the  inmates  from 
their  beds,  after  a  restless,  feverish  sleep. 
Marching  orders  for  the  troops,  which  had 
arrived  all  too  soon,  should  be  enforced ;  and 
what  had  seemed  to  many  as  a  frightful  dream, 
now  became  a  serious  reality.  Leave-taking  with 
the  beloved  ones  was  at  hand ;  then  the  march ; 
but  the  return  was  with  God  alone. 

From  the  open  stable-door  might  have  been 
seen  the  noble  bay,  shaking  his  heavy  mane, 
and  throwing  back  his  head,  as  if  to  demand  an 
explanation  of  the  saddle-bags  secured  to  his 
back.  Christian  was  attaching  the  bridle,  while 


134  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

a  second  soldier  busied  himself  over  the  pack- 
horse.  .Henrietta,  too,  was  there,  laden  with 
provisions  for  the  haversack,  not  having  forgotten 
to  replenish  the  field-flask. 

The  pain  of  parting  was  keen  to  Christian. 
How  gladly  would  he  have  packed  her  ladyship, 
little  Adolph,  and  the  entire  belongings,  in  the 
officers'  baggage-wagon  which  was  in  waiting 
before  the  door !  But  only  a  small  trunk  was 
permitted,  which  must  still  be  strapped. 

Within  the  house,  all  was  confusion  at  this 
early  hour.  No  one  had  time  for  thought  or 
composure.  Frau  Von  Drambow  glided  about 
like  a  little  ghost ;  the  rough  hand  of  war  had 
already  stripped  her  delicate  cheeks  of  their 
color.  Restless  and  nervous,  trembling  in  every 
fiber,  she  found  a  certain  comfort  in  personally 
attending  to  her  beloved  husband's  necessary 
wants  in  the  field.  She  clung  to  every  straw 
of  hope,  as  a  drowning  man  in  the  swift  stream's 
current,  endeavoring,  above  all  things,  to  evince 
an  earnest  self-control.  She  was  a  Drambow 
now,  and  in  her  own  family,  as  well,  descended 
from  an  old,  chivalrous  Pomeranian  stock,  hav- 
ing been  reared  amid  all  the  traditions  of  past 
generations.  Where  had  there  been,  even  one, 
found  unwilling,  if  necessary,  to  give  up  every- 
thing he  possessed,  or  every  drop  of  blood,  for  the 
king  and  fatherland  ?  She  would  be  worthy  of 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  135 

this  race,  certainly !  But  the  constrained  ex- 
pression of  despair,  the  trembling  lips,  and  pal- 
lid cheeks,  moved  her  husband  more  than  out- 
bursts of  violent  weeping. 

Breakfast  stood  ready  upon  the  table.  He 
pushed  it  aside,  and  drew  her  to  his  lap,  and 
while  she  threw  her  arms  around  his  neck  and 
hid  her  face  upon  his  shoulder,  he  seized  a  Bible, 
which  had  heretofore  lain  undisturbed  amid  the 
dishes  and  plates. 

It  was  a  peculiar  spectacle  to  witness  a  man, 
who,  either  from  indifference  or  skepticism,  had 
waited  until  now  to  exercise  the  priestly  func- 
tion in  his  own  house ;  but  in  this  hour,  having 
nothing  else  to  give  for  her  heart's  need,  he 
seized  the  Sacred  Book  instinctively. 

"Mathilda,  listen;  let  me  read  this  Psalm  to 
you.  Read  it  always  when  you  think  of  me. 
It  is  the  ninety-first,  '  Confidence  in  the  face  of 
death:' 

"  '  He  that  dwelleth  in  the  secret  place  of  the 
Most  High  shall  abide  under  the  shadow  of  the 
Almighty. 

"'I  will  say  of  ths  Lord,  He  is  my  ref- 
uge and  my  fortress;  my  God;  in  him  will  I 
trust. 

"  'Surely  he  shall  deliver  thee  from  the  snare 
of  the  fowler,  and  from  the  noisome  pestilence. 

"  'He  shall  cover  thee  with  his  feathers,  and 


136  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

under  his  wings  shalt  thou  trust ;  his  truth  shall 
be  thy  shield  and  buckler. 

"  'Thou  shalt  not  be  afraid  for  the  terror  by 
night ;  nor  for  the  arrow  that  flieth  by  day ; 

"'Nor  for  the  pestilence  that  walketh  in 
darkness ;  nor  for  the  destruction  that  wasteth  at 
noonday. 

"  '  A  thousand  shall  fall  at  thy  side,  and  ten 
thousand  at  thy  right  hand;  but  it  shall  not 
come  nigh  thee. 

"  'Only  with  thine  eyes  shalt  thou  behold 
and  see  the  reward  of  the  wicked. 

"  'Because  thou  hast  made  the  Lord,  which 
is  my  refuge,  even  the  Most  High,  thy  habitation  ; 

"'There  shall  no  evil  befall  thee,  neither 
shall  any  plague  come  nigh  thy  dwelling. 

"'For  he  shall  give  his  angels  charge  over 
thee,  to  keep  thee  in  all  thy  ways. 

"'They  shall  bear  thee  up  in  their  hands, 
lest  thou  dash  thy  feet  against  a  stone. 

"  'Thou  shalt  tread  upon  the  lion  and  ad- 
der; the  young  lion  and  the  dragon  shalt  tliou 
trample  under  feet. 

"  'Because  he  hath  set  his  love  upon  me, 
therefore  will  I  deliver  him  ;  I  will  set  him  on 
high,  because  he  hath  known  my  name. 

"  'He  shall  call  upon  me,  and  I  will  answer 
him:  I  will  be  with  him  in  trouble;  I  will  deliver 
him,  and  honor  him. 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  137 

"  '  With  long  life  will  I  satisfy  him,  and  shew 
him  my  salvation.' ' 

He  had  scarcely  finished  the  reading  when 
Christian  entered  with  his  helmet  and  sword.  Ris- 
ing to  his  feet,  Captain  Von  Drambow  hastily 
drank  part  of  a  cup  of  coffee,  then  walked  with 
firm  tread  into  the  little  sanctuary  where  his  son 
lay  sleeping.  His  wife,  who  had  followed  him, 
drew  aside  the  portieres,  and,  looking  in,  beheld 
him  upon  his  knees  before  the  cradle. 

"I  commend  to  thee,  O  God,  my  precious 
child  !  I  commend  to  thee,  O  God,  our  King, 
who  has  a  heart  for  his  soldiers'  orphans — I  com- 
mend to  thee,  O  God,  my  darling  wife,  whose 
beautiful  young  life  will  be  a  sad  problem  if  I — 
am  not  spared!" 

Did  she  really  hear  these  words,  or  was  she 
only  able  to  divine  them  by  virtue  of  a  perfect 
sympathy?  She  answered  in  a  half-dazed  man- 
ner: "O,  my  Adolph,  I  promise  to  be  faithful 
to  you,  even  over  your  grave." 

He  had  now  sprung  up,  and  kissed  the  child 
so  forcibly  that  he  awakened  with  a  cry,  which 
no  one  attended,  and  this  had  happened  for  the 
first  time  in  his  little  existence. 

The  father  was  now  again  in  the  living  room, 

and  the  impatient  neighing  of  the  horses  before 

the  door  remanded  him  to  duty.     Pressing  his 

wife  to  his  heart  and  lips,  he  at  length  tore  him- 

12 


138  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

self  away  ;  sprang  hastily  down  the  steps,  and  into 
the  saddle  with  so  much  force  the  bay  trembled 
beneath  the  shock.  Frau  Von  Drambow  stood 
by  the  window,  encircled  by  the  wonderful  bloom 
of  this  never-to-be-forgotten  spring.  Adolph, 
whose  tears  had  been  dried,  was  in  her  arms. 
He  was  still  in  his  night-dress, '  and  his  little  legs 
were  bare.  No  matter ;  a  soldier's  son  must  be 
inured  to  hardships  when  his  father  rides  far,  far 
away !  The  latter  waved  his  hand  to  them  as 
the  horse  galloped  off;  his  face  was  deathly  pale, 
but  lighted  by  an  enthusiasm  of  courage  and 
will.  Once  more  he  turned,  and  pointed  to  the 
pure  blue  sky  with  significance;  then  a  cloud 
of  dust  hid  horse  and  rider  from  view.  Chris- 
tian followed  with  the  pack-horse,  turning  also 
to  look  once  more  upon  little  Adolph. 

"Take  the  child,"  entreated  the  young  mother 
to  Henrietta,  turning  away  from  the  window ; 
and  the  sobbing  maid  had  scarcely  received  him 
in  her  arms  before  Frau  Von  Drambow  lay  on 
the  carpet  in  a  swoon.  The  little  bruised  flower 
had  been  rudely  broken !  Henrietta  gave  her 
what  attention  she  could,  and  more,  perhaps, 
than  might  have  been  expected  under  the  cir- 
cumstances ;  but  it  was  fortunate  that  Asta  Von 
Geldern  had  hastened  to  her  friend  during  the 
forenoon,  and  was  followed  by  Linnie,  who  cared 
for  the  distressed  one,  looked  after  Adolph,  and 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  139 

permitted  the  wound,  which  no  earthly  balm  could 
assuage,  to  bleed  in  silence. 

Amid  the  beating  of  drums  and  the  loud 
crashing  of  music,  the  king's  Grenadier  Regi- 
ment once  more  marched  in  full  royal  strength 
through  the  streets  of  Stettin.  Even  the  reserves 
had  been  pressed  into  service.  Windows  were 
everywhere  open ;  white  handkerchiefs  fluttered 
from  the  casements,  only  to  be  pressed  after- 
ward to  weeping  eyes ;  an  immense  number  of 
people  crowded  and  surged  in  the  thoroughfares, 
swayed  hither  and  thither  in  clouds  of  dust  by 
the  advance  guard  of  the  troops  detailed  to  es- 
cort the  regiment  to  the  railroad  station. 

It  was  a  gay,  kaleidoscopic  scene.  Many 
peasants  from  beyond  the  Oder,  from  the  Py- 
ritzer  and  Stargardter  regions,  had  come  to  town 
with  wives  and  daughters,  to  bid  farewell  to  sons 
and  brothers;  the  women  carrying  huge  baskets 
of  home-made  love-tokens  to  be  still  disposed  of 
in  the  haversacks  and  knapsacks  of  their  beloved. 

There  was  great  discomfort  in  all  this  surg- 
ing mass ;  but  no  one  complained,  and  the  people 
were  quiet  and  subdued  as  if  oppressed  by  the 
extreme  sultriness  of  the  weather.  In  a  corner, 
on  high  steps  leading  to  the  waiting-room  of 
the  railroad  station,  a  group  of  poorly  clad  chil- 
dren were  huddled  together.  The  eldest,  a  girl, 
was  decked  out,  evidently  for  the  festive  occa- 


140  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

sion,  in  an  extraordinarily  long  but  perfectly 
clean  apron,  which  reached  to  her  feet.  The 
smallest  of  the  number,  as  yet  unable  to  stand 
on  his  bowed  legs,  had  been  taken  in  her  arms. 
Every  pair  of  the  blue  eyes  and  wide-open  mouths 
stared  anxiously  for  the  approaching  troops. 

Boom  !  boom !  boom !  now  sounded  from  the 
Schnecken  Gate,  then  from  the  quay  of  the  Oder, 
mingled  with  crashing  fanfares,  as  the  music  rose 
to  the  loudest  outbursts,  as  if  to  tear  the  list- 
ener's soul  from  his  body  and  carry  it  above, 
with  itself,  far  above  the  pain  of  parting,  hope- 
less fears,  and  solicitous  yearnings ;  far  above  all 
questionings  of  the  gloomy,  hidden  future.  Let 
us,  also,  forget  in  the  midst  of  this  clangor;  let 
it  become  stronger  and  fiercer,  until  mingling 
with  the  thunder  of  cannon,  forward,  we  are 
breast  to  breast  with  the  enemy. 

One  of  the  French  horns,  who  marched  at 
the  head  of  the  battalion,  strutted  forward  as  if 
he  ruled  the  earth ;  playing  with  the  most  in- 
tense, patriotic  enthusiasm  ;  his  blazing  face  and 
temple  veins  swollen  beneath  the  rim  of  his 
helmet,  which  overshadowed  eyes  of  pitchy 
darkness. 

"Now,  Augusta,  look  there!"  exclaimed  one 
of  the  boys  in  the  aforementioned  group  (the 
regiment  was  now  standing  in  the  square  before 
the  station) ;  "see  if  that  is  not  Alfred  Winter — 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  141 

but  I  do  n't  find  father.  Alfred  Winter  !  Alfred 
Winter!"  cried  all  in  a  chorus,  waving  their  caps 
violently,  Augusta  participating  in  the  excitement 
with  the  corner  of  her  apron. 

"Children,  what  are  you  doing  here?"  said 
one  of  the  officials,  peremptorily. 

"We  want  to  see  our  father,"  came  from  all 
mouths  at  once;  "our  father's  name  is  Schultz. 
He  was  a  shoemaker,  but  now  he  is  a  reserve  in 
the  king's  splendid  Grenadier  Regiment,  and 
going  off  to  war." 

Against  such  a  rejoinder  on  such  a  day  there 
could  be  no  resistance,  and  they  were  permitted 
to  remain.  Part  of  the  regiment,  having  re- 
ceived orders  to  wait  until  the  first  battalion 
should  be  placed,  accordingly  stacked  arms, 
and  military  discipline  became  somewhat  relaxed. 
The  country  people  and  many  servant-girls  from 
the  city,  who  desired  to  give  their  friends 
and  betrothed  little  gifts,  pressed  between  the 
ranks.  In  the  midst  of  the  swarm  and  confusion, 
with  dust-begrimed  eyes,  which  appeared  to  be 
blended  with  sunlight,  stood  a  tall,  hollow- 
cheeked  grenadier,  evidently  a  reserve,  as  the 
uniform  sat  awkwardly  upon  his  bony,  fleshless 
form.  Verily  the  man  must  feel  as  though  he 
were  in  a  dream ;  only  a  short  time  before,  at  a 
shoemaker's  ordinary  work,  the  knocking  of  his 
hammer  mingling  with  the  sighs  of  a  sick  wife, 


142  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

and  now,  fascine  knife  on  hip,  helmet  on  closely 
cropped  head,  officers'  commands  in  ear,  crowds 
of  people,  drums,  music,  and  the  shrill  whistle 
of  the  locomotive ! — to  march  far  away  to  Bo- 
hemia; far  away  from  Stettin  and  the  narrow 
room  filled  with  half-worn  boots  and  shoes,  to 
Silesia,  Saxony,  Bohemia — which  seems  to  him 
at  the  end  of  the  world. 

"Father!  father!"  was  now  heard  from  the 
steps,  then  a  mingled  cry  as  from  a  sparrow's- 
nest,  and  a  confusion  of  little  and  big  arms  in 
embrace;  "we  are  here,  father!" 

"My  God!  the  children!" 

Pushing  aside  comrades,  peasant  women's  bas- 
kets, and  gossiping  servant-maids,  in  a  moment 
he  is  among  them,  and  has  taken  little  Fritz 
from  Augusta. 

"But  how  did  you  get  here?"  He  could 
not  reproach  them ;  too  much  woe  filled  his 
heart  at  the  sight. 

"We  must  see  you  once  more,  and  Fritz 
would  come  along.  We  wanted  to  bring  little 
Ida;  but  mother  wouldn't  let  us  have  her. 
Mother  weeps  so  much  because  she  could  not 
leave  her  bed  to  say  '  adieu '  to  you  ;  but  she 
sends  her  love  and  this  little  book  from  Linnie." 

He  took  the  gift,  with  a  helpless  look  towards 
the  little  brood  ;  and  that  which  had  not  occurred 
to  him  so  forcibly  before,  suddenly  overwhelmed 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  143 

him, — how  indispensable  he  was  to  these  little 
ones  in  a  world  where  hunger  and  distress  men- 
aced on  all  sides.  And  now,  if  the  wolf  should 
enter  at  the  door  of  this  helpless,  restless  troop, 
when  he  should  no  longer  be  with  them  and  the 
sick  mother !  Overcome  by  these  reflections,  he 
failed  to  hear  the  command  to  fill  up  ranks,  and 
in  the  general  confusion  the  children  became 
separated  from  him  as  the  guardsman  now  cleared 
away  the  crowd  from  the  entrance. 

Schultz  was  pushed  into  a  transport-wagon, 
where  he  was  received  with  shouts  of  laughter. 

"Schultz,  have  you  brought  a  milk-bottle 
along?" 

"Hurry  up  there  and  fasten  a  fresh  milch- 
cow  on  behind  !" 

"Schultz,  are  there  any  more  of  the  same 
kind?" 

"Hello,  Schultz,  did  you  get  the  colonel's 
permission  ?" 

The  stream  of  rough  wit  was  inexhaustible, 
and  the  poor  man  only  stared  in  bewilderment, 
carrying  the  child  in  his  arms.  In  the  haste  he 
had  forgotten  to  return  little  Fritz  to  his  sister's 
care,  and  to  all  appearance  he  would  be  obliged 
to  accompany  the  troops  to  war. 

Augusta,  like  one  half  distraught,  looked 
everywhere  in  the  crush  for  her  father.  In  the 
carriages  near  at  hand  were  only  to  be  found  the 


144  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

officers.  One  of  these,  Captain  Elmbach,  stood  in 
the  open  door  of  a  coupt,  gazing  earnestly  to  right 
and  left  over  the  surging  masses.  With  throbbing 
heart,  the  young  officer  observed  the  slender 
form  of  a  lovely  girl,  whose  white  dress  gleamed 
in  the  crowd  like  a  pillar  of  cloud.  She  was  mak- 
ing her  way  along  the  line  of  wagons,  from  time  to 
time  raising  her  drooping  eyelids  as  if  in  search 
of  some  one.  What  had  brought  Asta  Von 
Geldern  hither  ?  The  answer  shall  come  alone  to 
him,  as  she  stands  there  spell-bound,  the  blue 
eyes  meeting  the  black,  in  a  melting,  overpower- 
ing expression  of  sorrow  and  love  !  She  carries 
three  beautiful  roses  in  her  belt,  which  are  reached 
to  him  with  trembling  hand.  Her  lips  move  as 
if  to  speak  a  word  of  parting,  but  the  voice  is 
absent.  Elmbach's  breast  swells  with  emotion. 
At  this  juncture  a  sergeant  springs  to  his  side 
with:  -"Captain,  a  man  named  Schultz,  among 
the  reserves,  has  brought  a  child  with  him." 

Elmbach  looked  astonished. 

"Take  it. from  him,  man." 

"Sir,  it  can  not  walk,  and  none  of  the  people 
will  have  it.  I  must  do  something,  for  the 
column  moves." 

Asta  reached  out  her  arms  toward  poor 
Schultz,  who  was  crying  out  for  Augusta,  and 
weeping  bitterly  in  the  midst  of  his  perplexity 
and  embarrasment. 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  145 

"Give  him  to  me,"  she  cried;  "I  will  take 
care  of  him.  Do  not  fear  to  trust  me." 

"On  the  wharf,  No.  25  Fisher  Street,"  cried 
Schultz,  relinquishing  the  child,  with  an  expres- 
sion of  intense  relief;  for,  verily,  this  was  help 
in  time  of  need. 

Fritz,  in  his  blue  linen  dress,  was  soon  en- 
throned upon  the  lovely  lace-covered  arm  of  his 
protector.  He  did  not  trouble  the  least  over  his 
worn  shoes  and  red  woolen  stockings,  but  seemed 
to  appreciate  the  picturesque  effect  of  his  sur- 
roundings. 

Elmbach  smiled.  His  whole  heart  was  con- 
centrated upon  her  beautiful  appearance.  O,  she 
was  not  a  superficial  doll,  whose  pride  of  birth 
smothered  her  human  nature !  She  was  a  true 
woman,  pure,  sweet,  loving,  attractive ;  nay, 
more — good.  How  he  longed  to  clasp  her  to 
his  heart !  But  the  procession  was  now  in  mo- 
tion, at  first  so  slowly  as  to  be  almost  imper- 
ceptible, but  surely  advancing.  He  could  still 
look  upon  the  lovely  image ;  then  it  began  to 
disappear,  and  finally  vanish  from  behind  the 
railroad  station  as  they  passed  through  a  tunnel, 
out  amid  the  pretty  dwellings  of  the  suburbs ; 
farther  on,  among  the  waving  corn-fields,  the 
blooming  meadows,  over  which  the  larks  fly ; 
through  village  and  wood,  until  far  out  of  sight. 
The  roses  are  hidden  in  his  breast.  "Remain 


146  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

there  and  wither,"  he  whispers ;  "and  when  I 
die,  lay  them  with  me. " 

•  Asta  walked  away  with  her  charge  to  the  quay 
along  the  Oder.  She  was  deeply  agitated,  but 
full  of  courage.  Hope,  born  of  a  painfully  proud 
enthusiasm,  unfolded  before  her  inward  vision  a 
bright  picture  of  the  future.  "  He  will  come  back 
crowned  with  glory,  more  illustrious  and  splen- 
did than  ever.  I  shall  press  the  laurel-wreath 
upon  thy  beloved  brow,  and  then — then — " 

Fritz  clung  round  her  neck.  She  did  not 
care,  and  scarcely  felt  the  burden  of  the  child's 
weight.  At  first  he  had  felt  shy,  and  had  drawn 
away  his  little  hands  from  the  confusion  of  her 
golden  locks ;  but  he  became  reassured  as  he 
looked  into  her  sweet,  kindly  face.  It  seemed 
to  her  that  she  had  not  only  received  him  from 
his  father,  but  from  Elmbach  as  an  especial 
care ;  the  approving  smile  he  had  given  her 
at  the  moment  was  very  precious  to  recall.  And 
so  the  two  went  on  together,  as  the  wonderful 
events  of  the  day  had  decreed  ;  and  in  the  uni- 
versal excitement,  very  few  passers-by  gave  them 
any  attention. 

Asta  had  crossed  the  bridge  which  connected 
the  old  city  with  the  wharf,  but  had  not  reached 
her  destination,  when  she  observed  a  great  crowd 
of  children  swarming  toward  her. 

"But,  dear  Fraulein,  that  is  our  Fritz.     You 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  147 

must  not  carry  him  away ;  you  must  give  him 
up  to  us;"  and  little  Fritz,  recognizing  his  innu- 
merable brothers  and  sisters,  looked  yearningly 
at  Augusta,  his  little  upper  lip  drawn  in,  half- 
laughing,  half-crying,  and  showing  at  times  two 
rows  of  fresh,  shining,  new  butter-teeth. 

Asta  let  them  take  the  child,  related  how  she 
had  obtained  him,  and  said  she  would  go  home 
with  them  to  see  him  safely  with  his  mother. 
This  produced  great  joy  in  the  whole  troop,  and 
she  was  conducted  in  triumph  to  No.  25  Fisher 
Street,  up  the  four  flights  of  stairs,  to  the  bed- 
side of  the  feeble  mother. 

They  found  her  alone  with  little  Ida,  no  one 
having  thought  of  her  during  these  exciting 
hours.  A  hymn-book  lay  open  beside  her.  She 
evidently  tried  to  obtain  comfort  by  reading, 
"Commend  thy  ways  and  fears  to  God,"  but 
had  been  interrupted  through  blinding  tears. 
She  had  found  consolation,  nevertheless ;  for  in 
prayer  alone  was  she  able  to  drive  away  her 
despondency.  She  had  not  known  this  source 
of  comfort  very  long.  God's  Word  had  been 
heretofore  less  and  less  esteemed,  until  it  had 
been  wholly  neglected.  But  when  "the  seam- 
stress of  Stettin"  had  become  acquainted  with 
the  family  through  their  repeated  misfortunes, 
this  sacred  Book  had  been  restored  to  honor. 
Trouble  and  distress  had  made  it  dearer  to 


148  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

these  susceptible,  needy  souls ;  and  the  beautiful 
simplicity  and  sincerity  of  life  manifested  by  this 
child  of  God  through  word  and  deed,  had  been 
a  potent  factor  not  only  in  this  humble  abode, 
but  wherever  her  modest  footsteps  appeared. 
Schultz  and  his  wife  were  no  longer  scorners ; 
and  notwithstanding  their  ^  discouraging  burdens 
they  now  tasted  God's  love  in  the  midst  of  all, 
and  found  him  "a  very  present  help  in  time  of 
trouble." 

Fraulein  Von  Geldern  sat  by  this  poor  woman's 
bedside.  She  saw  the  wasted,  care-worn  face 
of  a  distressed  mother,  unable  to  supply  her 
children's  wants,  and  read  therein  the  same  pain 
which  had  so  utterly  cast  down  her  friend  Frau 
Von  Drambow.  It  was  the  pain  of  a  wife  sep- 
arated from  a  beloved  husband ;  but  in  this 
case  it  was  manifested  in  a  more  patient  and 
resigned  way. 

The  sick  woman  opened  her  heart  freely  to  the 
lovable,  sympathetic  visitor,  and  related  the  his- 
tory of  her  life  from  what  she  designated  "her 
foolish  marriage  "  to  the  birth  of  little  Ida.  Nat- 
urally enough,  the  seamstress's  name  entered  into 
the  recital.  This  was  a  subject  for  warm  treat- 
ment, and  the  general's  daughter  heard  an  enthusi- 
astic eulogy  upon  her  old  friend,  where  she  had 
least  expected.  Nothing  was  omitted — her  kind- 
ness and  help ;  her  precious  Fridays  spent  in 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.      .         149 

mission  service  among  the  poor;  and  now,  in 
this  bitterest  trial,  her  own  only  earthly  hope. 
All  this  from  the  pale  lips,  with  eyes  suffused, 
and  trembling  utterance. 

Asta,  whose  heart  had  so  recently  been 
plowed  up  by  the  storm  of  an  awakening  love, 
received  the  story  with  an  answering  sympathy, 
that,  like  a  little  golden  seed,  struggled  upward 
and  became  a  bud  of  promise.  With  her  fresh, 
energetic  nature,  it  was  impossible  to  be  other- 
wise ;  and  whatever  she  undertook  was  always  con- 
tinued to  perfect  completion.  She  was  glad  to 
hear  Linnie  praised,  and  was  thrilled  all  the  more, 
on  account  her  own  inertia,  by  the  recital  of  her 
old  friend's  zealous  endeavors.  Like  a  long  line 
of  reproachful  spirits  appeared  before  her  mental 
horizon  the  expensive,  and  often  useless,  toilet 
appendages  in  which  she  had  always  indulged. 
Gloves,  worn  twice  perhaps,  then  cast  aside; 
perfumery,  scarfs,  flowers,  ribbons — all  these  rose 
up  against  her,  as  well  as  the  childish  importunity 
with  which  she  had  so  often,  coaxed  additional 
allowances  from  her  indulgent  father  for  whims 
and  caprices,  either  by  kisses  or  a  kind  of  croco- 
dile tears !  And  yet  while  she  had  snatched  in- 
numerable good  from  the  full  horn  of  happiness, 
only  to  squander  it  with  thoughtless  hand,  little 
Fritz  had  been  sitting  in  this  gloomy  corner, 
without  sunshine,  in  the  midst  of  old  boots, 


150  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

crying  for  a  crust.  But  it  should  all  be  dif- 
ferent! Asta  Von  Geldern  resolved  in  this  hour 
to  make  a  wide  breach  between  the  past  and 
the  present. 

Leaving  the  contents  of  her  pocket-book  in 
Frau  Schultz's  hands,  and  promising  to  see  her 
again,  that  nothing  should  be  wanting,  she  left 
the  shoemaker's  dwelling  hurriedly,  knowing  that 
her  friend  Mathilda  needed  her  comfort  and 
presence  this  day  more  than  ever. 

Crossing  St.  James  Place,  she  encountered 
the  seamstress  who  had  not  been  engaged  to 
work  anywhere.  There  was  too  much  disquiet 
and  grief,  to  sit  down  calmly  with  needle  and 
shears.  They  walked  on  to  Birch  Avenue,  and 
found  Frau  Von  Drambow,  as  already  described. 

The  day  that  had  witnessed  the  marching 
forth  of  the  troops  to  war  was  now  passed.  The 
people  had  expended  much  of  their  bitterness, 
and  had  returned  to  their  usual  every-day  routine 
of  business. 

The  present  month  of  June  was  exception- 
ally hot  and  dry.  A  yellow  glare  overspread 
the  city,  and  everybody  moved  along  the  streets 
feebly  and  languidly.  In  the  nooks  and  corners 
of  the  unkempt  little  yards  lurked  disagree- 
able odors,  perceptible  to  passers-by.  It  was 
perhaps  difficult  to  divine  what  was  the  matter; 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  151 

but  there  was  felt  an  overpowering  longing 
for  fresh  air  from  the  meadows,  or  from  a  sea 
whose  trembling  breakers  should  give  to  this 
arid  atmosphere  vibrations  of  moisture,  or  for 
cool  springs  and  forest  shade.  But  few  were 
rich  or  independent!  enough  to  travel  whither 
these  desires  led.  Most  of  the  inhabitants  of 
Stettin  were  obliged  to  remain  in  the  city,  while 
the  open  declaration  of  war,  which  had  been 
promulgated  on  the  I4th  of  June,  made  a  sojourn 
at  the  various  watering-places  impossible. 

Linnie  Bergmann  was  once  more  in  General 
Von  Geldern's  dwelling,  employed  to  sew  to- 
day  for  Fraulein  Mylitta  Von  Kleewitz,  his  sis- 
ter-in-law. She  is  standing  in  this  lady's  room 
before  an  easy-chair,  upon  which  reclined  her 
ladyship,  in  order  to  receive  instructions.  A 
wasted  face,  to  which  mysterious  toilet  appli- 
ances gave  an  unnatural  varnish  in  order  to  simu- 
late youth,  was  encircled  by  long  thin  locks.  It 
was  like  a  painted,  withered  rose,  but  badly 
painted,  and  vainly  varnished,  its  furrows  and 
folds  marked  with  obtrusive  wrinkles ;  for  its 
owner  'had  grown  old,  although  loudly  protesting 
against  it. 

The  door  leading  to  Asta's  beautiful  boudoir 
stood  open.  She  was  sitting  there,  surrounded 
with  a  gigantic  heap  of  silk  dresses,  coats,  finery, 
etc.  She  nodded  and  laughed  to  attract  Lin- 


152  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

nie's  attention ;  but  Fraulein  Mylitta  had  raised 
her  forefinger  with  a  significance  that  demanded 
the  strictest  consideration : 

"I  also  wish — "  Then  followed  an  impos- 
sible direction  concerning  the  alteration  of  a 
gown.  Linnie  modestly  suggested  some  changes, 
whereupon  Fraulein  Mylitta  tapped  her  foot 
impatiently  on  the  smoothly  polished  floor: 

"You  will  make  it  as  I  direct,  Fraulein 
Bergmann." 

"But,  aunt,  they  don't  make  them  so," 
interposed  Asta. 

"I  will  take  care  of  that,  dear  Asta,"  empha- 
sized her  ladyship,  turning  her  chair  so  that  her 
back  alone  was  visible  to  the  audacious  niece, 
in  the  midst  of  her  gay  fripperies. 

"See  here,  Fraulein  Bergmann,"  she  pur- 
sued— for  it  was  only  when  Aunt  Mylitta  was  ill 
and  especially  lenient  that  Asta,  or  any  one  else, 
ventured  to  say  "Linnie"  in  the  old  lady's  pres- 
ence— "see,  this  is  a  clearing  out,  as  you  call  it, 
and  I  am  doing  it  thoroughly  and  really." 

"She  is  possessed  with  some  insanely  extrava- 
gant idea,"  explained  her  ladyship,  positively. 
"The  aquarium  role  has  been  played,  and  now 
the  families  of  our  reserves  and  militia  are  tak- 
ing its  place.  She  will  only  exist,  now,  for 
these.  I  have  advised  her  to  contribute  her 
share,  and  allow  the  societies  to  do  according  to 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  153 

their  experienced  and  more  sensible  ways;  but 
when  has  she  ever  heeded  my  counsels?  She 
must  always  argue  from  her  stand-point,  and  then 
begin  to  rummage  among  her  things." 

Linnie  approached  the  doorway,  and  looked 
with  astonishment  upon  her  darling. 

"Linnie,  I  have  begun  a  new  life,"  exclaimed 
Asta.  "I  herewith  empty  myself  of  all  super- 
fluities; I  shall  never  spend  another  penny  for 
myself.  You  may  laugh,  but  you  see  I  am  in 
earnest;  yes,  earnestness  is  at  the  back  of  it." 

"Idiocy  is  at  the  back  of  it,"  retorted  the 
aunt,  who  was  now  really  angry,  while  two  red 
spots  burned  upon  her  strong,  high-cheeked 
bones.  "See  there!  out  of  her  silk  gowns  she 
will  make  dresses  for  the  wives  of  the  shoe- 
makers and  tailors,  and  wrap  their  children's 
coarse  bodies  in  her  embroidered  sashes.  Did 
any  one  ever  hear  of  anything  so  preposterous  ?" 

"You  are  saying  what  is  untrue,  Aunt  My- 
litta,"  replied  Asta,  rebelliously ;  and  she  would 
have  continued  but  for  meeting  Linnie's  soft- 
brown,  reproving  eyes.  Standing  up,  she  shook 
her  garments  as  a  dove  shakes  off  the  drops  of 
a  light  shower,  and  added  gently:  "I  only 
thought,  Linnie,  that  Frau  Schultz  might  make 
use  of  a  black  silk  for  church  and  communion 
services,  and  surely  a  simple  white  dress  for  little 
Fritz  would  not  be  too  much." 


154  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

"Princesses'  wear,"  interjected  her  ladyship, 
satirically;  then  turning  to  the  seamstress,  she 
continued:  "Perhaps  I  might  have  it  re-bound. 
That  doesn't  matter,  eh?  Shall  the  sleeve  have 
something  pretty?" 

"The  white  dress  and  the  silk  gown,  Frau- 
lein  Asta,"  said  Linnie,  "you  would  better  keep; 
they  are  expensive,  and  perhaps  might  make 
these  poor  people  only  doubly  discontented  in 
the  future." 

"What  shall  I  do  with  my  frippery,  then?" 
exclaimed  the  young  girl,  impatiently.  "I  have 
decreed  to  sacrifice  them  on  the  altar  of  my 
fatherland." 

"There  will  be  plenty  of  use  for  them,"  ar- 
gued Fraulein  Mylitta,  who  loved  economy, 
although  she  was  very  rich. 

"If  you  will  permit  me  to  advise  you,"  an- 
swered Linnie,  "I  know  a  person  who  belongs 
to  the  theater,  and  who  would  pay  a  good  price 
for  them.  General  Von  Geldern's  daughter  could 
not  very  well  dispose  of  them,  but  I  could  sell 
them  in  her  stead." 

"Splendid!  That  shall  be  done.  Frederick 
shall  pack  them  in  a  laundry  basket,  and  carry 
them  where  you  direct." 

"Asta,  I  warn  you,"  threatened  Aunt  My- 
litta. "Your  papa  is  not  much  in  the  humor  of 
giving  at  present,  and  his  terrible  decree  will  be 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  155 

heard  as  long  as  the  war  lasts.  You  will  be 
made  to  feel  it,  and  do  n't  reckon  upon  my 
purse,  dear  child!"  This  was  pronounced  with 
exceeding  impressiveness. 

But  a  very  short  time  previously  Asta  had 
thrown  her  pretty  nose  in  the  air  over  her  lady- 
ship's expression  ;  but  now  there  was  something 
new  germinating  in  her  soul.  She  contented 
herself  by  looking  at  her  aunt  seriously,  and 
only  said  :  "I  shall  never  wear  ornaments  again." 

"  Listen  to  her  !  She  is  crack-brained.  I  fear 
she  will  infect  me  with  her  fanaticism.  I  long 
for  my  chocolate." 

Linnie  rang  for  the  maid,  while  she  sat  by 
the  window  niche  with  her  work,  in  order  that 
Fraulein  Mylitta  might  witness  its  progress  with 
her  own  eyes. 

Not  long  after,  the  general  entered,  as  stately 
and  imposing  as  usual.  To  Linnie  alone  did  his 
countenance  appear  a  trifle  depressed.  She  dis- 
cerned a  deeply  pained  expression  upon  the 
bronzed  face  and  white-bearded  lips.  It  chafed  his 
very  soul  to  know  that  the  colors  floated  afar,  and 
the  top  of  the  standard  sparkled  in  the  distant 
sunlight,  wliile  he,  a  Geldern,  sat  in  safety  be- 
hind garrison  walls,  neither  missed  nor  wanted 
by  his  heroic  king.  A  sword  thrust  into  his 
side  would  have  been  less  painful.  He  had 
begged  even  to  be  permitted  to  go  in  any 


156  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

position;  but  the  king  had  replied:  "Each  one 
serves  in  his  place,  and  your  place  is  at  home." 
He  carried  a  number  of  Stettin  newspapers,  and 
his  military  cloak  was  only  partly  thrown  across 
his  shoulders. 

Linnie  admired  the  stalwart  chest,  covered  with 
its  finely  embroidered  shirt.  Splendid  physiques 
had  these  old  Pomeranians. 

"There  is  a  fearful  mortality  among  young 
children  this  season,"  he  remarked,  throwing  the 
papers  on  a  table.  "  Frau  Von  Drambow  must 
take  care  of  Adolph.  Do  you  hear?  do  you 
understand,  Asta?" 

"O,  Adolph  is  the  healthiest  child  in  all 
Stettin,  papa." 

The  general  emitted  a  sort  of  growl.  "Yes- 
terday, as  I  was  crossing  the  long  bridge,"  he 
continued,  pacing,  meanwhile,  up  and  down  the 
apartment,  "I  saw  a  little  vagabond  double  him- 
self up  and  cling  to  the  railing  until  he  was  per- 
fectly blue  in  the  face.  They  say  a  mild  sum- 
mer complaint  prevails  in  the  city;  but  I  fear, 
I  declare — " 

Asta  had  now  approached  him  and  laid  her 
hand  on  his  arm.  She  pointed  significantly  to 
her  aunt.  The  general  cleared  his  throat,  and 
made  an  expressive  grimace.  "Still,"  he  con- 
tinued adroitly,  "it  must  be  as  they  say,  for  they 
certainly  know  better  than  I  do." 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  157 

"What  in  the  world  is  it,  then?"  exclaimed 
the  sister-in-law,  excitedly,  and  not  so  easily 
baffled  ;  "  I  beg  you,  for  Heaven's  sake,  brother, 
what  is  it  then  ?  Only  the  lowest  classes  are 
troubled  with  such  diseases,  and  they  have  them- 
selves to  blame  for  it;  they  are  so  untidy  and 
careless." 

"Sister  Mylitta,  I  think  a  soldier  and  his 
family  do  well  to  look  at  such  an  affair  cor- 
rectly. I  have  come  in  expressly  to  talk  it  over 
with  you.  Never  mind  your  winking,  Asta ; 
and  you,  Mylitta,  compose  yourself.  If  it  please 
God  to  send  us  a  plague,  we  must  not  be  afraid 
to  discuss  it.  We  have  had  the  cholera  in 
Stettin  once  before,  and  I  think  it  very  probable 
we  shall  have  it  again." 

"It  will  only  be  cholera  morbus,"  insisted  the 
old  lady  obstinately;  "and  we  have  that  every 
summer." 

"Neither  cholera  morbus  nor  cholera  infan- 
tum,  but  the  real  Asiatic  pest,  and  the  people 
will  perish  like  flies.  Nothing  avails  to  conceal 
it,  or  deceive  one's  self;  but  you  need  not  worry. 
I  wrote  to  Cousin  Hans  a  few  days  ago,  and 
announced  your  coming.  In  the  country,  and 
fir-forests  of  Neumark  you  will  not  be  in  any 
danger." 

Fraulein  Mylitta  breathed  more  freely.  Asta 
threw  her  arms  around  her  father's  neck :  "  I  will 


158  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

not  leave  my  father — never!  Where  you  are  I 
shall  also  be." 

He  loosened  the  lovely,  ensnaring  fetters 
somewhat  forcibly,  and  looking  away  toward 
his  sister-in-law,  said  firmly:  "The  child  also 
goes.  I  can  not  have  her  in  the  way." 

"But  I  shall  not  do  it;  I  certainly  will  not 
do  it!"  She  stood  up  erect  and  very  pale.  "I, 
an  only  daughter,  leave  my  old  father !  I,  a 
Geldern,  take  a  journey  for  fear  of  cholera, 
leaving  my  old  father  behind  !" 

"Old!"  re-choed  the  general,  fiercely.  "  Old, 
do  you  call  me  ?  If  I  did  not  have  this  accursed 
leg,  I  should  be  on  the  march  to  day,  and  hold  my 
ears  stiffer  than  many  a  lieutenant,  I  tell  you." 

She  did  not  heed  his  interruption,  but  con- 
tinued with  a  shudder:  "What  if  you  were 
taken  ill,  papa,  and  I  could  not  be  here  to 
care  for  you?" 

"You  two  dispute  again  about  trifles," 
snapped  Fraulein  Mylitta  ;  "there  is  n't  a  doubt 
that  you  would  take  leave  of  him  as  soon  as  the 
war  is  ended.  Another  commander  would  soon 
be  found."  Turning  to  the  general:  "Take  a 
furlough,  and  go  with  us ;  that  will  compromise 
matters." 

The  old  soldier  replied,  with  a  scornful  smile : 
"It  is  well  that  the  emancipation  of  women  has 
not  made  sufficient  progress  to  exert  its  authority 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  159 

over  the  army;  his  majesty,  the  king,  would  be 
rather  badly  served.  I  think  he  expects  to  find 
me  here  in  my  place,  certainly  while  the  enemy 
menaces.  It  does  not  yet  appear  to  me  that  I 
am  of  no  use  longer  in  the  world.  Do  n't  make 
such  a  silly  face,  Asta;  or  perhaps  you  would 
find  pleasure  in  seeing  your  father  a  deserter?" 

In  spite  of  his  resistance  she  embraced  him 
anew,  holding  him  with  a  death-like  grip,  her 
face  close  to  his,  while  two  round  drops  hung 
upon  her  eyelids. 

"Father,"  she  argued,  impetuously,  "do  you 
recollect  what  you  said  to  me  on  my  confirma- 
tion-day ?  We  came  out  of  the  church,  and  you 
gave  me  your  arm  as  to  a  great  lady,  and  led  me 
up  stairs  to  my  own  pretty  room :  '  That  is  your 
mother's  sewing-table,  and  this  is  her  desk.  I 
have  preserved  them  with  sacred  care  for  you  ; 
but  your  mother  lies  in  her  grave,  and  God  has 
called  you  to  take  her  place.  Do  not  forget  it, 
my  child.  I  expect  love  and  joy  from  you ;  I 
expect  to  find  in  you  a  good  daughter. '  All  this 
you  said  to  me,  papa,  and  you  see  I  have  not  for- 
gotten it ;  and  now,  with  my  mother  in  her  grave, 
I  can  not  leave  the  place  where  God  has  called 
me;  or  should  you  rather  see  me  a  deserter?" 

She  spoke  hurriedly,  warmly,  almost  breath- 
lessly, as  if  exerting  all  her  eloquence  in  the 
defense. 


160  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

Over  his  stern  features  moved  great  billows 
of  emotion.  He  freed  himself  from  her  grasp 
with  a  strange  commingling  of  admiring  pride 
and  troubled  perplexity ;  for  she  had  vanquished 
him  with  his  own  weapons,  and  he  was  com- 
pelled unwillingly  to  surrender. 

The  rolling  of  carriage- wheels  now  inter- 
rupted them.  Soon  after  the  door-bell  was  heard 
to  ring  with  a  loud,  urgent  clang,  and  the  door 
to  the  Bel-ttage  was  thrown  open  by  a  maid,  who 
rushed  in  unceremoniously,  crying:  "Ah,  your 
ladyship,  I  am  half  dead  from  fright.  Our 
Frederika,  the  cook,  has  cholera.  They  have 
just  brought  her  here  in  a  cab.  She  fell  down 
at  market,  and  tumbled  into  a  barrel  of  peas  and 
turnips  belonging  to  a  huckster,  who  says  she 
will  claim  damages — what  kind  of  a  person  can 
she  be  ? — and  now  she  lies  down  there  on  the 
floor,  without  even  a  pillow  under  her  head,  and 
the  cab-driver  is  up  and  off,  and  she  has  cramps — 
and  O,  sir,  what  shall  we  do?" 

The  general,  in  this  terrible  moment,  looked 
more  than  ever  like  a  lion  presenting  his  broad, 
open  breast  in  fearless  opposition  to  the  hunter. 
With  strong  hand,  he  pushed  his  daughter  in  the 
window-niche  behind  the  portieres  and  flowers, 
as  if  to  hide  her  from  the  view  of  fierce  marau- 
ders invading  his  threshold. 

"Stay  there,"  he  thundered,    "and    do   not 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  161 

stir  from  the  spot !  You,  there,  Katherine  and 
Getta,  instead  of  howling  and  alarming  the  neigh- 
bors, go  down  and  put  the  cook  to  bed." 

Fraulein  Mylitta  arose,  and  seized  his  arm : 
"But  you  surely  do  not  wish  to  keep  the  crea- 
ture in  the  house?"  she  cried. 

"What  else  can  be  done?  No  hospital  will 
receive  her,  and  the  cholera  hospitals,  although 
established,  are  not  yet  equipped." 

"That  will  force  us  to  ruin!"  entreated  the 
thoroughly  frightened  woman. 

"What  can  I  do?  Even  if  I  desired  to  have 
her  privately  cared  for,  it  is  probable  people 
would  simply  receive  the  money  and  leave  the 
poor  woman  to  die  in  her  helplessness.  She  has 
served  us  faithfully,  and  often  nursed  me  when 
my  leg  was  injured;  I  think  now  we  should  care 
for  her.  Compose  yourself,  Mylitta ;  God  is  over 
us!  Where  is  your  maid?" 

But  Katherine  had  immediately  thrown  her- 
self on  the  floor  in  a  paroxysm  of  terror,  scream- 
ing:  "I  can  not  take  care  of  a  cholera  patient, 
if  I  were  paid  thousands  of  dollars  for  my  serv- 
ices !  O,  it  is  terrible  that  we  must  all  be  here 
together !" 

"A    man    among   women-folks    is    like    one. 

betrayed  and  sold  into  bondage,"  muttered  the 

general.       "Is    there    no    one    here    to    depend 

upon?     Where    is   Frederika?     If    there    is   no 

14 


162  THE  SEAMSTRESS  Of  STETTIN. 

one  else,  I,  myself,  will" — and  he  sprang  down 
stairs  as  fast  as  his  disabled  leg  permitted. 

In  the  basement  the  servants  were  huddled 
together  in  consternation,  not  one  making  an 
effort  to  relieve  the  sufferer,  who  lay  on  the  floor 
in  violent  cramps.  But  she  was  not  alone.  Lin- 
nie  was  there,  kneeling  beside  her,  having  already 
placed  a  pillow  under  her  head, — no  one  knew 
how  or  when,  she  had  gone  so  quickly. 

The  general,  with  the  butler's  assistance,  soon 
had  the  poor  creature  in  bed,  while  Linnie  re- 
mained near  to  give  what  relief  was  possible. 
A  physician  was  immediately  summoned,  and  the 
general  returned  to  his  daughter  and  sister. 

Asta  remained  obediently  where  he  had  placed 
her.  She  had  turned  her  back  upon  the  old  lady, 
who  stood  by  the  door  of  her  room  like  a 
frightened  bird,  ready  to  fly,  no  matter  where, 
only  far,  far  away  from  this  death  specter.  She 
had  seized  a  cologne-bottle,  and  poured  its  con- 
tents over  herself. 

"Poor,  good  Frederika!"  said  the  general; 
"it  is  genuine  cholera.  I  will  give  you  some 
hasty  directions.  The  principal  thing  is  to  remain 
calm,  keep  the  feet  warm,  and  eat  moderately. 
Nothing  more  can  be  done." 

"Linnie  is  with  her,"  said  Asta. 

"Yes,  that  girl  is  worth  her  weight  in  gold. 
She  never  thinks  of  herself,  always  of  others." 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  163 

"And  yet,  papa,  she  is  the  sole  support  of 
her  helpless  mother,  and  places  herself  in  jeop- 
ardy while  the  Gelderns  and  the  Kleewitzes  are 
thrust  behind  flower-stands  and  portieres,  inhal- 
ing essence  of  cologne.  I  do  not  like  that,  dear 
papa,  nor  should  you  !" 

"I  can  not  personally  attend  to  my  cook," 
he  replied  unamiably ;  "that  is  a  woman's 
business." 

"  Yes,  indeed,  a  woman's;  and  the  business  of 
a  woman  in  the  house  permit  me  to  do,  papa. 
If  I  had  been  a  son,  you  would  not  have  withheld 
me  from  the  war;  it  is  a  time  for  every  one  to 
do  his  duty." 

The  general  sighed  deeply.  It  was  difficult 
for  him  to  send  his  child  there,  but  he  was 
obliged  to  confess  she  was  right.  "Well,  go, 
my  daughter,"  he  consented,  his  massive  brow 
beclouded  with  suffering. 

' '  I  am  not  at  all  afraid,  dear  papa, "  she  remon- 
strated bravely;  "then,  you  know,  there  is  no 
danger,  and  really  the  physicians  are  not  wholly 
agreed  whether  it  is  contagious  or  not."  Nod- 
ding cheerfully,  she  left  the  room. 

"That  is  hard,"  he  murmured,  pacing  the 
room  restlessly;  "but  I  could  not  oppose  her  in 
this  point.  I  wish  I  had  sent  her  away.  Now 
it  is  too  late." 

"Whoever  says  A,   must   say   B,"   retorted 


1 64  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

Fraulein  Mylitta,  spitefully.  "You  should  have 
followed  my  advice,  and  not  allowed  the  sick 
creature  to  remain  here.  I  would  willingly  assist 
Asta,  but  my  nerves  will  not  bear  such  a  - 
strain.  She  has  always  had  wonderful  powers  of 
endurance." 

"My  brave  girl! — and  she  also  loves  her 
beautiful  young  life  !"  The  father's  voice  trem- 
bled with  deepest  emotion  as  he  walked  to  the 
window.  "  O  God,"  he  entreated,  "protect  her, 
protect  my  only  child ;  take  the  old  man,  for 
whom  the  king  has  no  use,  but  spare  my  Asta !" 
He  continued  to  gaze  out  of  the  window  as  if  to 
find  comfort  there ;  but  the  outlook  presented 
little  encouragement.  The  Oder  valley  beyond 
was  incased  in 'yellow  gloom;  a  swallow  flew 
feebly  by,  fell  to  the  ground,  and  remained  lying 
there.  "Terrible  !"  he  sighed  ;  "and  yet  it  will 
become  more  and  more  terrible.  God  above 
alone  can  help  us.  He  will  deliver  us.  Pack 
your  satchel,  Mylitta,  as  quickly  as  possible.  I 
will  procure  the  services  of  a  reliable  housekeeper 
and  nurse;  but  you  and  the  child  must  go." 

It  was  now  afternoon  ;  and  the  storm  that  had 
shaken  General  Von  Geldern's  home  during  the 
forenoon  had  passed  over.  There  was  deep  si- 
lence everywhere.  In  Frederika's  room  the  win- 
dow was  open,  and  on  the  bed,  converted  into  a 
pall,  lay  the  remains  of  a  human  form  in  stony 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  165 

calm.  All  was  over ;  the  agonizing  shrieks,  the 
anxious  hurrying  to  and  fro,  the  fearful  struggle, 
begun  by  the  creature,  only  to  be  defeated  by 
the  stronger  for  his  prey,  ended  !  She  had  filled 
her  appointed  place  as  well  as  she  could,  which 
can  be  said  of  but  few ;  now  she  had  gone  to 
her  reward,  no  longer  to  struggle  amid  toil  and 
suffering. 

Asta  had  been  very  brave.  Even  Linnie  had 
not  been  able  to  withstand  her  determined  will 
during  this  sad  experience,  but  looked  with  as- 
tonishment upon  the  changed  character  of  the 
young  girl,  repeating  to  herself:  "She  has  be- 
come a  woman  so  thoroughly,  who  knows  what 
may  have  happened  to  her?" 

The  lovely  young  woman,  herself,  thought  of 
her  splendid  hero.  O,  would  he  not  smile  as- 
sentingly,  as  he  had  done  when  she  received 
little  Fritz,  and  look  upon  her  with  proud,  beam- 
ing eyes,  to  behold  her  fulfillment  of  duty? 
Would  he  not  say,  "She  is  worthy  of  my  love ;" 
for  was  he  not  a  heroic  soldier,  animated  by  a 
sense  of  duty,  not  only  when  he  rescued  her 
from  the  depths,  but  when  he  tore  himself  away 
that  sweet  farewell  hour? 

But  it  was  not  love  alone  that  made  her 
steadfast.  She  desired  to  emulate  Linnie's  faith 
and  works,  to  learn  by  following  her  footsteps 
the  secret  of  her  power  and  happiness ;  and 


166  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

in  order  to  do  this  she  would  not  only  climb  the 
heights,  but  descend  to  depths,  casting  aside 
every  frivolous,  superficial  aim  that  idleness  en- 
gendered and  empty  pleasure  invited,  in  order 
resolutely  to  begin  the  earnest  of  life. 

At  her  father's  request  she  had  immediately 
changed  her  clothing,  and  was  now  seated  in  her 
boudoir  among  the  flowers.  Linnie  entered  with 
coffee. 

"I  should  like  to  read  something  about  eter- 
nal peace,  Linnie.  To  day's  occurrences  have 
made  me  weary.  Find  something  in  the  hymn- 
book." 

Linnie  opened  its  pages  at — 

"  There  is  rest  for  the  weary, 
There  is  rest  for  you  ;'' 

then  turned  away  from  her  darling,  and  re- 
sumed her  sewing.  A  reliable  woman  had  been 
obtained  as  housekeeper,  and  the  dead  removed 
during  the  early  evening  to  the  city  vault.  Lin- 
nie was  glad  to  busy  herself  again  with  needle 
and  thread ;  she  needed  the  soothing,  quieting 
influence.  But  this  was  only  permitted  a  short 
time.  The  door  leading  to  the  small  adjoin- 
ing room  was  violently  opened,  and  the  general 
made  his  appearance. 

"Please  come  here,"  he  said;  "I  have  lost  a 
button,  and  you  understand  best  how  to  secure 
another." 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  167 

Seizing  her  strongest  thread,  she  entered  the 
apartment  where  the  general  was  accustomed  to 
work.  It  was  a  lofty,  severely  appointed  place, 
hung  with  dark  curtains,  and  furnished  in  heavy 
oak.  The  walls  were  covered  with  various  wea- 
pons and  large  cards ;  adjoining  this  office  or 
study  was  a  small  bed  chamber. 

"See;  this  is  where  the  button  is  needed," 
pointing  to  the  left  side  of  his  coat.  "For  God's 
sake,  be  quick;  I  can  not  stand  very  long." 

Threading  her  needle,  the  seamstress  looked 
up  in  alarm.  His  lips  were  pale,  and  his  beauti- 
fully formed  hands,  which  a  sculptor  might  have 
modeled,  appeared  insensible,  with  their  finger- 
nails already  blue. 

"You  may  stand;  it  is  too  much  for  me," 
he  added,  sinking  into  an  easy-chair.  "I  am 
very  uneasy.  My  hands  and  feet  are  cold ;  but 
they  must  not  know  it.  I  did  not  call  you  on 
account  of  the  button ;  what  shall  we  do,  Linnie, 
to  spare  my  daughter  and  her  aunt?" 

Brave  as  Linnie  was,  she  was  seized  with 
painful  anxiety.  She  revered  the  general  as  a 
distinguished  and  honored  friend,  and  the  thought 
of  losing  him  almost  overpowered  her.  She  ran 
hurriedly  to  the  kitchen  for  hot  tea  and  bottles, 
and  for  a  preventive  left  by  the  physician. 
Upon  her  return  the  general's  face  had  grown 
yellow. 


1 68  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

"It  is  liver  trouble,  Linnie ;  and  yet  I  feel 
strangely  anxious ;  but,  thank  God,  I  have  cour- 
age. In  my  desk  yonder  lies  my  will ;  my  affairs 
are  all  in  order.  As  for  Asta — " 

"No,  no,  my  dear  General,  you  must  not  talk 
so,"  said  Linnie,  deeply  moved.  "We  will 
pray  this  calamity  shall  pass  over."  She  con- 
tinued to  cover  him  warmly,  then  sent  Frederick 
for  the  physician. 

Meanwhile  Asta  had  read  the  hymn  of  Rest. 
It  had  comforted  and  sustained  her,  as  a  new, 
refreshing,  spiritual  impulse.  Youth  is  restless ; 
its  sacrifices  of  worldly  things  may  be  compared 
to  the  flitting  butterfly,  and  it  easily  loses  a 
heart-felt  contact  with  eternal  peace.  But  the 
peace  remaineth ;  and  he  who  suffers  it  to  abide 
in  the  tempted,  weary  heart,  shall  realize  its 
completeness,  and  rejoice  in  its  blessed  pos- 
session forever  and  ever. 

The  book  lay  in  her  lap,  and  the  tired  eye- 
lids closed  over  the  tired  eyes.  A  terror  of 
death,  and  a  longing  for  rest,  had  unitedly  exer- 
cised a  profound  impression  upon  her  young  soul. 
Suddenly  she  raised  her  head  and  listened.  Was 
there  not  unrest?  Hurried  going  and  coming, 
voices  calling  to  one  another,  and  that  in  a  house 
where  the  recent  presence  of  death  had  restrained 
every  unnecessary  movement?  Stepping  to  the 
window,  she  observed  Frederick  running  along 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  169 

the  street  toward  the  old  city  without  a  hat. 
She  pricked  her  ears  as  if  to  scent  danger,  while 
endeavoring  to  persuade  herself  there  was  none — 
there  could  be  none.  With  beating  heart  she 
hurried  through  the  dining-room  to  the  splendid 
corridor,  and  there  met  Linnie  carrying  a  pot 
of  tea,  and  wearing  a  very  anxious,  troubled 
expression. 

"Linnie,  what  is  the  matter?" 

"Only  a  slight  indisposition.  The  general 
will  soon  be  better.  Do  not  get  so  pale.  Re- 
member, Fraulein  Asta,  you  are  a  soldier's 
daughter,  and  must  be  brave." 

But  Asta  wrung  her  hands  despairingly. 

"He  will  die  like  Frederika.  O,  "Linnie, 
Linnie!" 

"He  is  laughing  and  jesting  now,  and  never 
mentions  cramps.  Come  in,  Fraulein  Asta,  to 
see  for  yourself  how  he  is." 

Yes,  in  to  him  ! — quick,  quick  as  the  trembling 
feet  could  carry  her,  and  it  seemed  as  though 
her  arms  must  be  steeled  with  love  and  power 
to  extort  that  dear  life  from  the  king  of  terrors. 
He  smiled,  and  declared  there  was  no  reason  for 
alarm  ;  but  she  knelt  beside  him,  and  while  shud- 
der after  shudder  agitated  her  fragile  body,  she 
pressed  his  feet  to  her  bosom,  and  sought  to 
restore  their  warmth  by  vigorous  rubbing. 

Suddenly  her  head  sank  upon  his  knee,  and  a 
IS 


170  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

few  minutes  later  she  was  writhing  in  cramps 
before  him. 

"Linnie,"  cried  the  general,  "Asta  is  sick; 
do  not  leave  us !" 

She  leave  them?  Never!  And  if  thousands 
had  fallen  at  her  right  hand  and  ten  thousand  on 
her  left,  such  a  thought  would  have  never  en- 
tered her  brain.  She  was  necessary  here,  as 
never  before  in  her  life  ;  and  strength,  courage, 
and  confidence  were  imparted  to  her  from  the 
infinite  Source  of  all  help. 

"  Be  still,  my  darling  ;  it  will  pass  over.  You 
will  get  better.  We  will  not  despair.  Jesus  is 
with  us."  Thus  she  soothed  and  calmed  the 
young  girl ;  and  when  she  had  been  put  to  bed, 
and  the  first  agony  of  the  dreadful  spasms  was 
passed,  Linnie  turned  to  give  Fraulein  Mylitta 
attention. 

As  we  have  described  it  in  this  instance,  it 
was  likewise  among  many  families  in  Stettin. 
The  time  has  now  long  passed,  grass  grows  over 
the  graves,  but  the  occurrences  of  these  dreadful 
days  are  remembered  by  all.  They  live  in 
memory  amid  thanksgiving  and  tears,  as  with 
thorns  and  roses,  and  the  words  of  Scripture  are 
verified:  "Behold,  therefore,  the  goodness  and 
the  severity  of  God." 

Fraulein  Mylitta  had  shut  herself  up  in  her 
own  apartment,  and  was  informed  through  the 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  171 

key-hole  by  Linnie,  of  the  general's  and  Asia's 
illness,  which  she  received  with  violent,  hysterical 
weeping. 

"I  lie  here  perfectly  helpless;  I  am  not  in 
condition  to  do  anything.  I  feel  that  I  shall 
also  be  stricken  as  they  are." 

But  Linnie  did  not  fear  this.  She  was  only 
assured  that  no  assistance  could  be  depended 
upon  from  her  ladyship ;  she  therefore  called 
together  the  servants,  and  directed  them  to  the 
best  of  her  ability. 

The  general  soon  improved  upon  the  admin- 
istration of  a  powerful  emetic,  his  lion-like  nature 
having  destroyed  the  grim  specter's  murderous 
intentions,  and  frightened  him  back  to  a  more 
respectful  distance.  He  had  not  moved  nor  lain 
down.  Sitting  upright  in  the  easy-chair,  smoth- 
ered in  blankets,  he  watched  the  condition  of 
his  daughter  in  the  adjoining  room.  Asta  was 
very  ill.  It  seemed  at  one  time  as  though  the 
star  which  had  illumined  this  beautiful  home  for 
seventeen  years  would  be  forever  hidden  from 
earthly  gaze.  All  night  long  they  watched  over 
her  with  glimmering  hope,  as  when  the  last  light 
flickers,  and  midnight  sways  the  earth  with  her 
scepter. 

But  she  was  spared ;  and  with  sunrise  there 
was  a  slight  improvement  in  her  condition. 
Then  an  uncertainty ;  then  a  perfect,  decided 


1 72  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

change  for  the  better  ;  and  the  faithful  physician, 
who  had  not  left  her  bedside  for  a  moment,  pre- 
vailed upon  the  general  to  consider  his  own 
state :  ' '  Go  to  bed ;  the  worst  is  over ;  we  are 
confident  of  her  recovery  ;"  and  the  strong  sol- 
dier submitted,  laying  his  trembling  hands  on 
Linnie's  head  with:  "Thanks,  and  blessing  to 
you,  my  friend.  The  events  of  this  night  have 
made  me  a  Christian — a  believer — and  I  owe  it 
all  to  you." 

Linnie  was  not  exhausted.  She  was  accus- 
tomed to  work,  and  the  loss  of  a  few  hours' 
sleep  gave  her  no  discomfort.  Here  her  labors 
of  love  had  been  crowned  with  mercy,  and  as 
hope  comes  with  the  new  morning's  light,  so  her 
heart  sang  its  song  of  rejoicing  over  the  dawn 
of  a  renewed  soul.  Asta,  too,  should  live,  and 
God's  loving  kindness  endure  forever ! 


sL"       «SJx*      *\L*      *sL*       •st'*      fst"*       •sL*       "sU*       *sl>*       »J>«       »vL«       -si"       *\L»       »sL* 

, i  ^jjm  7  Mjffi^^^  • 

- 


"•       L.*.^*.^*.^*.*,*.*.^^^  ^ 

i^i^';f"i"Q '\'J\j  ''u*'' ii?  *  *J"'''K'  *^^ 'JT':|i' '  u'^'i/^Xjj^ 


VI. 

"Now  for  the  fight!     Now  for  the  cannon  peal! 

Forward  through  blood  and  toil,  and  cloud  and  fire ! 
Glorious  the  shout,  the  shock,  the  crash  of  steel, 

The  volley's  roll,  the  rocket's  blazing  spire  ! 

They  shake ;  like  broken  waves  their  squares  retire ! 
On  them,  hussars!    'Now  give  them  rain  and  hail! 

Think  of  the  orphaned  child,  the  murdered  sire ; 
Earth  cries  for  blood!  In  thunder  on  them  wheel! 
This  hour  to  Europe's  fate  shall  set  the  seal !" 

— THEO.  KORNER. 

T  was  a  hot,  dusty  day  toward  the  end  of 
June.  Like  gigantic  serpents,  whose  scaly 
bodies  glisten  in  every  movement  beneath 
the  sunlight,  so  the  vast  columns  of  the 
quick  marching  troops  turned  through  the 
village  streets  of  Bohemia.  "Forward!  For- 
ward !"  not  as  one  goes  calmly  to  death,  but  driven 
thither  by  the  relentless  enemy  swinging  his 
scourge  over  their  backs. 

One  of  these  marching  trails,  under  com- 
mand of  the  Prussian  crown  prince,  comes  from 
the  east ;  another,  commanded  by  his  cousin,  the 
heroic  Prince  Frederick-Karl,  goes  in  a  direct 


174  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

line  to  the  south.  The  endeavor  of  both  is  to 
join  their  forces  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Elbe, 
in  order  to  crush  the  enemy  in  a  united  embrace. 

The  Austrians  and  Saxon's,  led  by  the  crown 
prince  and  Count  Elam-Gallas,  after  the  battles  of 
Miinchengratz,  Hiinerwasser,  and  Podol,  had  en- 
tered the  favorable  region  of  Gitschen.  A  fresh 
encounter  was  shortly  expected,  and  the  Prus- 
sian generals  had  been  compelled  to  divide  their 
forces  into  wings,  in  order  to  bring  them  into  an 
open  country,  and,  by  a  forced  march  through 
oftentimes  very  narrow  mountain  paths,  escape 
the  borders. 

The  interest  of  all  the  seamstress  of  Stettin 
was  reading  concentrated  upon  the  third  divis- 
ion of  the  First  Army  Corps,  especially  upon 
the  troops  belonging  to  the  king's  Grenadier 
Regiment.  Many  good  old  acquaintances  were 
there.  Captain  Von  Drambow,  over  whom  count- 
less love  messages  from  his  little  wife  fluttered 
as  a  swarm  of  white  doves ;  his  attendant,  Chris- 
tian, whose  eyes  dilated  more  and  more  in  this 
new,  strange  world,  and  whose  "bay"  remained 
well  groomed  and  glossy,  because  he  knew  how 
to  provide  his  fodder  and  straw  in  every  con- 
ceivable and  inconceivable  way ;  Captain  Elm- 
bach,  wearing  in  his  bosom  three  withered 
roses ;  Schultz,  the  reserve,  more  than  once  lying 
by  the  bivouac-fire  in  an  anxious  dream,  when 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  175 

little  Fritz  sat  on  his  knapsack,  crying  boister- 
ously for  his  milk-bottle ;  and  Alfred  Winter,  the 
competent  musician,  already  attached  to  the  band, 
and  carrying  with  a  certain  romantic  acquit  the 
horn  intrusted  to  him. 

In  general  or  particular  cases,  the  Pomera- 
nians are  no  submissive  compliants.  "If  we 
could  travel  by  rail  to  the  battle-field,  alight,  and 
then  as  easily  return,  we  should  not  relish  war  at 
all,"  is  expressive  of  their  character.  They 
have  not  been  delicately  enough  reared  to  sweeten 
the  fatigues  of  a  march  with  admiration  for  the 
scenery  of  foreign  lands,  or  the  poetry  of  chi- 
valrous deeds.  It  requires  the  entire,  unfettered 
dramatic  power  of  a  really  great  battle  to  arouse 
their  apathy, — the  snapping  of  rifles,  the  thunder 
of  cannon,  the  crashing  of  shells.  Then  the 
Pomeranian  feels  there  is  something  worthy  his 
exertion,  and  the  unfurling  of  the  warrior's  stand- 
ard. Some  of  the  old  German  giant  nature  ap- 
pears to  view,  and  he  performs  wonderful  acts 
of  heroism ;  obtains  immortal  glory,  and  lies 
down  either  to  die  on  the  despoiled,  blood- 
drunken  earth,  without  complaint,  or  to  sleep 
soundly  until  the  morrow,  and  then  renew  the 
conflict. 

Captain  Elmbach  was  animated  by  such  an- 
cient characteristics  and  peculiarities,  as  well  as 
other  men.  This  fiery  young  man,  who  could 


176  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

have  easily  flashed  his  own  nature  like  an  elec- 
tric spark  through  his  entire  company,  was 
obliged  more  than  once  to  contend  with  impa- 
tience ;  but  he  did  not  fail  to  observe  the  espe- 
cially deserving  ones  among  his  men,  whose  stead- 
fastness and  integrity  won  the  esteem  of  all,  and 
presented  examples  worthy  of  emulation.  One 
of  these  was  reserve  Schultz,  and  he  had  not  at 
first  suspected  this.  Whenever  he  rode  by  the 
company,  his  glance  met  this  man's  blue,  sincere 
eyes,  in  which  he  read:  "All  is  well,  captain; 
we  will  march  as  long  as  we  can,  and  when  we 
can  march  no  longer,  we  will  march  right  on!" 
Captain  Elmbach  knew  it  was  this  manner 
of  mind  that  overcomes  the  enemy  before  meet- 
ing him ;  but  he  did  not  know  it  had  been 
acquired  in  the  school  of  tribulation, in  a  struggle 
for  existence. 

Looking  upon  the  painful  separation  from  his 
family,  the  war  was  to  reserve  Schultz  something 
more  than  a  mere  pleasure  excursion.  He  had 
greatly  changed  in  outward  appearance.  Who- 
ever might  have  seen  the  pale,  slender  man  at 
the  railroad  station  of  Stettin,  would  scarcely 
have  recognized  him  now;  but  it  must  be  re- 
membered he  had  since  that  time  been  constantly 
in  the  open  air,  marching  amid  corn  and  clover 
fields,  by  the  margins  of  meadows  where  hay- 
stacks stood ;  had  slept  beneath  the  vault  of 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  177 

heaven,  with  the  stars  twinkling  overhead.  His 
form  had  become  erect,  his  complexion  brown, 
and  a  full  beard  made  its  appearance.  He 
moved  along  with  the  army,  proud  to  be  an 
active  participant  in  the  great  cause.  In  all  the 
fatigues  he  manifested  a  gentle,  earnest  stead- 
fastness in  which  his  younger'  comrades  were 
deficient;  and  although  they  called  him  "the 
happy  shoemaker,"  he  was  always  treated  with 
marked  respect. 

The  28th  of  June  had  been  the  hottest  day 
of  the  season ;  but  the  glittering  army  trail 
pushed  forward  with  unceasing  haste  from  the 
first  gray  of  dawn,  through  the  long  forenoon, 
and  late  in  the  evening.  The  narrow  defiles  be- 
came wider,  and  a  valley  trough  or  expanded 
plain  was  visible.  It  gleamed  from  afar  in  gayest 
colors,  being  the  Bohemian  poppy-fields,  which 
ripened  early  this  year,  and  which  waved  their 
narcotic  odors  over  the  satin-like  cushion  where 
the  wearied  troops  expected  to  rest. 

The  trail  disbanded  upon  reaching  this  highly 
picturesque  spot ;  the  men  stacked  arms,  unfast- 
ened knapsacks,  and  removed  their  helmets. 
Every  company  assembled  around  its  captain  to 
hear  his  orders.  As  we  can  not  be  with  them  all, 
we  shall  follow  the  one  most  interesting  to  us, 
Company  5,  under  Captain  Elmbach.  The  young 
officer  had  grown  very  much  bronzed,  and  was 


178  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

covered  with  dust.  He  raised  his  helmet,  and 
gave  to  each  of  the  corporals  orders  for  the 
respective  resting-places. 

The  locality  presented  itself  at  the  foot  of  a 
mountain ;  rocks  and  stones  lay  scattered  about 
in  the  midst  of  the  poppies,  often  covered  with 
a  growth  of  wild  roses  and  ferns.  Upon  a"  point 
slightly  elevated,  where  the  men  could  be  over- 
looked, the  captain  and  his  staff  rested.  A 
cheery  little  brook  burst  from  the  canton  of  a 
rock,  in  which  darted  gaily  flecked  trout,  fright- 
ened by  the  intruders'  din.  The  sergeant  hav- 
ing read  the  orders,  part  of  the  men.  scattered  to 
obtain  fire-wood,  straw,  and  provisions,  while 
others  threw  up  trenches  to  serve  as  single  fire- 
places for  cooking.  Every  one  carried  his  own 
coffee-pot,  as  well  as  a  cloak  and  knapsack. 
They  sat  around  the  circle,  stretching  their  weary 
limbs,  watching  eagerly  the  quickly  kindled  fire 
and  the  preparations  for  food.  Soon,  here  and 
there  over  the  fields,  were  seen  ruddy  flames, 
where  the  same  occupation  was  going  on,  and 
the  brief  rest  being  most  welcome  and  enjoy- 
able to  all. 

Somewhat  apart  from  the  others,  in  a  sort  of 
philosophical  corner  formed  of  the  white  thorn 
and  other  bushes,  sat  reserve  Schultz,  altogether 
alone,  on  a  flat  stone.  His  knapsack  was  on  his 
knees,  and  beside  him  his  canister.  He  was 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  179 

busy  writing,  alternately  dipping  his  pen  into  a 
tiny  inkstand,  and  a  leaden  spoon  in  the  smoking 
soup.  This  latter  was  exceedingly  appetizing,  be- 
ing strong  with  meat,  and  wanting  in  nothing  to 
make  it  good ;  he  had  also  bread  and  bacon  sand- 
wiches. It  was,  indeed,  a  luxurious  feast  to  one 
in  his  position,  who  rarely  enjoyed  meat  once  a 
year  at  his  own  home.  Schultz  appreciated  it, 
and  a  quiet  satisfaction  played  upon  his  face ;  at 
times  expanding  into  a  broad  grin  as  he  gazed 
upon  his  romantic  and  comfortable  surroundings. 
Then  he  resumed  his  writing,  which  had  been 
begun  several  days  before.  The  moon,  rising  in 
the  east  like  a  distant  anemone,  looked  over  his 
shoulder,  and  revealed  the  contents  of  the  letter: 

"  DEAR  WIFE, — I  want  to  tell  you  how  fortunate 
everything  has  been  for  me,  ever  since  the  young  lady,  a 
fine  general's  daughter,  took  Fritz  from  me  and  promised 
he  should  want  for  nothing.  I  have  seen  a  great  deal. 
Meat  and  bread,  with  everything  I  need,  comes  to  me  in 
abundance.  I  am  no  longer  stooped  as  I  was  in  Stettin,  but 
I  am  straight  and  well.  It  is  true  one  sees  very  few  pota- 
•  toes  here.  They  raise  poppies  everywhere,  so  they  ought  to 
be  able  to  eat  plenty  of  pills.  I  have  never  yet  been  able 
to  learn  where  the  war  will  really  begin.  We  are  already 
far  into  Bohemia.  I  never  thought  the  world  was  so 
large;  and  it  goes  on  and  on,  and  never  comes  to  an  end 
to  stop  us,  for  we  shan't  be  able  to  march  much  farther. 
We  have  been  passing  through  deep  valleys,  to  the  right 
and  left  of  which  are  high  mountains,  such  as  we  have 
nowhere  at  Gotzlow,  and  one  sees  the  rocks  as  God  made 


l8o  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

them  in  the  beginning.  Where  the  earth  has  fallen  be- 
tween, are  dense  forests,  far  above  which  the  eagles  fly. 
We  have  often  bivouacked,  and  in  fine  weather  this  is 
great  sport;  when  the  weather  is  bad,  there  is  also  sport, 
but  not  so  much.  We  always  build  the  best  tent  for  our 
captain.  Ah !  dear  wife,  he  is  the  very  same  captain  who 
was  with  us  when  Linnie  sang,  and  the  recruiting  of- 
ficer has  truly  said,  'he  is  no  easy  master,'  but  a  very 
strict  one ;  his  eyes  shine  like  glistening  pitch,  and  when 
he  looks  at  you,  one  feels  anxious.  Still,  proud  ways  do 
not  matter  if  the  heart  is  good ;  and  his  heart  is  good — 
that  I  must  say  of  him.  He  has  several  times  inquired 
about  our  Fritz  and  the  other  children,  and  I  told  him  how 
Fraulein  Von  Geldern  has  visited  you ;  then  he  strokes  his 
black  beard,  and  looks  on  the  ground.  I  like  him  very 
much,  and  am  not  one  of  those  who  think  the  high  officers 
want  to  eat  a  man  bodily.  It  is  not  so  bad  if  one  does 
his  duty.  If  we  come  home  again,  by  God's  help,  we 
will  tear  the  war- wreath  in  twain.  It  makes  me  wild  to 
see  it.  I  think  it  is  fearful !  I  treasure  all  that  Linnie  has 
told  us  of  the  beautiful  eternity,  in  the  sacred  songs  of  Rest. 
I  often  think  if  a  man  has  trials  in  this  world,  he  will 
be  taken  care  of  in  another. 

"We  have  marched  constantly  on  the  edge  of  mount- 
ains, and  are  trying  to  join  the  crown  prince ;  for,  dear 
wife,  'in  union  there  is  strength  ;'  but  now  we  are  to  march 
on  the  open  plain.  We  march  rapidly,  but  I  still  hold 
out.  A  man  can  do  much  if  he  will;  and  when  I  can  no 
longer  walk,  I  shall  creep,  as  a  soldier's  honor  is  at  stake. 

"At  first  I  was  ridiculed  a  good  deal,  on  account  of 
little  Fritz  and  my  loose  uniform ;  but  when  we  march,  I 
am  always  the  best ;  for  when  a  man  has  a  wife,  he  learns 
patience  and  endurance.  So  it  grows  better  and  better, 
and  I  find  much  pleasure  in  the  war. 

"  I  must  always  laugh  at  Alfred  Winter.  He  plays  as 
though  he  were  the  only  one  in  the  band ;  but  I  say 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  181 

that  is  because  he  is  a  musician.  He  is  the  joker  of  the 
company ;  but  it  must  be  an  effort,  even  to  him,  at  times, 
for  one  can  not  always  feel  like  laughing.  I  can  truly 
say  everything  tastes  good  to  me ;  and  if  Alfred  Winter 
has  the  best  reason  for  so  doing,  he  certainly  eats  more 
than  anybody  else.  Now,  you  know  young  folks  gener- 
ally think  everything  ought  to  be  as  they  would  have  it : 
they  do  not  know  any  better.  But  the  old  shoemaker 
keeps  quietly  on,  for  he  knows  the  world  often  goes  con- 
trary. Put  away  my  glass  bowl  so  the  children  may  not 
get  it,  and  kiss  little  Ida  for  her  father.  Now  good-night, 
dear  wife.  We  must  soon  leave  the  mountains  behind 
Austria.  Why  they  are  not  before  Austria  I  do  not  under- 
stand ;  but  if  I  were  General  Benedek,  I  would  not  let 
us  out  so  easily.  But,  after  all,  you  do[n't  know  who  Gen- 
eral Benedek  is :  he  is  the  Austrian  leader.  Everybody 
says  our  next  move  will  give  us  something  to  do,  that  I  shall 
be  glad  to  share.  Long  live  the  king  and  fatherland ! 
"  Forever  thine,  AUGUST  SCHULTZ, 

"Shoemaker  and  reserve,   5th  Co.,  ad  Battalion,  2d  King's 

Grenadier  Regiment,   King   Frederick  William   III,  5th 

Brigade,  3d  Division,  2d  Army  Corps. 

"P.  S.  I  had  repaired  only  one  of  little  Louise's  shoes, 
and  left  it  on  the  shelf  in  the  corner ;  the  other  needs  a 
patch, — but  it  is  because  I  came  away." 

It  had  grown  dark  when  Schultz  finished  the 
letter.  He  got  up  and  gave  it  to  the  sergeant, 
who  passed  over  the  company's  mail  with  the 
utmost  celerity  to  the  battalion's  postal  bureau. 
Meanwhile  the  officers  had  dined,  and  the  prin- 
cipal preparations  had  been  made  for  the  night. 

At  some  distance  from  the  elevation  upon 
which  Elmbach's  straw  hut  stood,  six  horses 


1 82  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

were  resting.  Three  of  them  belonged  to  the 
Fifth  and  three  of  them  to  the  Eighth  Com- 
panies. One  of  the  grenadiers — Captain  Von 
Drambow's  Christian — lay  in  the  shed  with  the 
horses,  sleeping  together  like  good  comrades ; 
but  it  was  not  long  before  Christian's  eyes  opened 
in  a  stare.  A  tall  figure  approached  him,  who 
was  recognized  as  his  master.  The  captain 
reassured  his  attendant  with  a  quiet  gesture ; 
then  asked  a  few  questions  concerning  the  care 
of  the  animals,  concluding  with:  "But  why  do 
you  lie  here,  my  man,  awake  ?" 

"If  you  wish  to  know,  sir,  I  was  thinking  of 
our  little  Adolph." 

A  light  sigh  escaped  Drambow's  breast. 
"God  bless  you,  Christian  !  But  sleep  now  while 
you  may;  to-morrow  we  shall  have  a  hot  day;" 
and  he  passed  on. 

A  few  steps  farther  on,  Captain  Elmbach  was 
seated  on  a  rock,  which  had  evidently  rolled  down 
from  the  mountain.  His  aids  were  soundly 
asleep  on  their  odorous  couch,  with  no  covering 
but  their  cloaks.  Over  his  head  a  wild  rose  in 
full  blossom  grew  luxuriantly ;  he  had  plucked 
one,  and  his  thoughts  had  turned  to  the  lovely 
young  woman  he  loved.  She  appeared  before  his 
mental  vision  as  she  stood  at  the  railroad  station, 
proud  and  blushing,  she  herself  a  rose,  giving  to 
the  one  beloved  above  all  others,  three  beautiful 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  183 

roses.  Upon  her  golden  locks  he  fancied  there 
shone  a  gleaming  star,  she  herself  a  star — his 
Asta !  A  hand  slightly  touched  his  shoulder, 
and  Captain  Von  Drambow  stood  behind  him. 

"Shall  I  disturb  you,  if  I  remain  with  you  a 
few  minutes?" 

Elmbach  moved  aside  to  give  him  a  seat  on 
the  rock  where  he  was  sitting. 

"Thank  you;  but  I  do  not  wish  to  sit.  I 
have  been  all  day  in  the  saddle.  It  is  pleasant 
to  come  here,  old  friend.  I  have  something  on 
my  heart;  will  you  hear  me  patiently?" 

"Only  tell  me,"  replied  Elmbach  ;  "the  hour 
is  favorable.  But  I  never  thought  a  man  like 
you  could  have  secrets,  Drambow." 

"It  is  no  secret,  only  a  commission.  I  desire 
to  dictate  to  you  my  will." 

"But  Drambow,  comrade,  you  dream,"  re- 
monstrated Elmbach,  seizing  his  friend's  hand 
with  friendly  warmth. 

"We  shall  in  a  few  days — perhaps  to  morrow, 
or  the  following  day — be  engaged  in  battle. 
Between  me  and  the  future  looms  up  a  dark 
cloud.  I  may  mistake,  but  I  think  I  shall  never 
see  Stettin  again." 

"Such  apprehensions  prove  nothing.  They 
are  the  machinations  of  a  brain  stirred  by  the 
serious  nature  of  our  affairs.  A  sensible,  rea- 
sonable man  does  not  heed  them." 


184  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

Drambow  made  a  significant  gesture  of  disap- 
proval, and  continued : 

"My  poor  little  wife  will  be  a  sorrowing 
widow.  I  am  sure  she  will  not  long  survive  me ; 
but  there  is  our  boy,  Elmbach." 

"Yes,  and  this  superior  boy  will  be  on  the 
arm  of  his  mother,  carrying  a  laurel-wreath 
to  crown  you  when  we  are  led  through  the 
Schnecken  Gate  together.  Banish  such  gloomy 
thoughts." 

But  the  captain  was  not  to  be  silenced. 

"You  do  not  realize  what  it  is  to  have  a 
child.  -A  man  becomes  a  new  being,  and  his 
heart  grows  more  susceptible  when  the  tender 
arms  of  his  own  little  one  cling  to  his  neck.  I 
know  there  are  few  things  in  which  I  could  be 
similarly  affected.  Elmbach,  have  you  ever  se- 
riously thought  of  death  and  eternity?" 

"Yes,  old  fellow,  and  I  have  arrived  at  Dr. 
Faust's  conclusion,  that  'we  can  really  know 
nothing  about  either.' ' 

"It  is  not  so  much  a  matter  of  knowledge, 
but  something  very  different.  The  best  assur- 
ance I  have  ever  had  I  must  thank  (you  needn't 
smile,  Elmbach)  my  wife's  seamstress  for.  All 
that  I  have  heard  her  say  in  the  course  of  many 
years  among  our  families,  reverts  to  me  in  these 
eventful  days  ;  and  to  a  doomed  man,  as  I  feel 
myself  to  be — " 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  185 

"But,  Drambow,  Drambow!" 

"I  feel  the  icy  grasp  of  the  great  destroyer 
on  my  neck.  You  may  laugh — " 

"I  am  not  at  all  inclined  to  laugh,  either  at 
your  mood,  or  still  less  your  seamstress." 

"Very  well.  A  man  destined  to  death,  as  I 
am,  can  do  nothing  but  repose  on  his  Redeemer's 
breast ;  but  how  much  better  it  would  have  been 
if  he  had  done  so  in  life,  from  his  cradle,  his 
baptism,  forward !  I  recognize  this  now,  and 
therefore  beg  you  to  have  my  son  surrounded 
with  Christian  influences  before  and  during  his 
military  career.  How  you  shall  be  able  to  effect 
this,  I  must  leave  to  your  discretion." 

"I  feel  unworthy  of  undertaking  such  a 
responsibility;  but  so  far  as  shall  lie  in  my 
power — " 

' '  Tell  him  what  I  have  said  as  soon  as  he  can 
comprehend  it.  Tell  him  that  he  who  would 
have  gladly  accompanied  him  through  life,  and 
given  his  last  drop  of  blood  for  his  child,  died  a 
soldier,  and  that  his  last  request  and  hope  were 
to  have  his  son  a  Christian.  I  can  not  bequeath 
to  him  earthly  riches,  only  an  untarnished  name 
and  a  sword  tempered  in  the  heat  of  battle.  I 
trust  he  will  know  how  to  prize  both.  Elmbach, 
I  write  my  last  testament  on  your  heart.  He 
shall  be  a  Christian;  tell  him  that,  Elmbach." 

After  a  pause  he  added  more  cheerfully: 
16 


1 86  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

"But  one  thing  more:  the  men  have  told  me 
of  an  interesting  scene  that  occurred  at  the  rail- 
road station  at  Stettin.  It  greatly  surprised  me 
after  what  you  have  confided  to  me  in  relation  to 
your  recent  interview  with  General  Von  Gel- 
dern  ;  but  I  would  not  pass  away  without  wishing 
you  happiness  from  the  depths  of  my  heart." 

If  the  night  had  not  been  so  dark  one  might 
have  witnessed  Captain  Elmbach's  deep  blushes. 

"This  war  campaign  shall  help  me  to  suc- 
ceed," he  replied,  laying  his  hand  on  the  hilt  of 
his  heavy  saber. 

"How  did  it  occur  so  quickly,  old  friend? 
I  have  always  heard  you  speak  with  antipathy 
of  the  family." 

"  O,  this  antipathy  was  soon  dispelled  on  my 
part  when  a  charming  little  hand  threw  a  barbed 
hook  in  my  breast  upon  the  occasion  of  the  res- 
cue in  the  lake.  I  saved  her  from  death  ;  she  is 
mine,  and  I  should  be  foolish  indeed  if  I  did  not 
demand  her  life  from  her  father's  hand." 

"Certainly;  and  love  always  does  what  is 
least  expected ;  for  when  one  is  once  in  the 
meshes,  one  must  go  on  with  it." 

"Yes;  I  am  daring  enough  to  desire  to  bring 
this  'star*  from  its  heaven!  Both  you  and  your 
wife  shall  be  our  bridal  attendants." 

"Never;  our  happiness — and  it  has  been 
precious,  dear  Elmbach — will  be  taken  from  us 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  187 

and  given  to  you.  But  I  do  not  murmur  over 
God's  dealings.  Everything  here  is  transient 
and  temporal ;  only  love,  love  is  eternal.  Linnie 
says  that  sentiment  is  in  one  of  the  apostle  Paul's 
epistles.  I  am  sorry  I  don't  know  which  one; 
but  I  believe  it,  and  therefore  I  am  not  hopeless. 
But  good-night ;  I  shall  not  keep  you  from  your 
needed  sleep.  Good-night,  and  dream  of  the 
pure,  propitious  'star'  that  illumines  Stettin." 

He  walked  quietly  away,  but  soon  returned 
with:  "You  could  scarcely  believe  that,  after 
all,  I  rejoice  over  the  prospect  of  the  fight.  I 
scent  the  smoking  powder  gladly.  As  soon  as 
we  shall  be  out  of  this  defile  the  Austrians  will 
be  before  us.  Once  more,  good-night." 

Sixteen  or  eighteen  hours  have  passed.  It 
must  have  been  nearly  five  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon when  the  Third  Division  was  on  the  march 
as  usual,  the  day  being  even  more  fatiguing  than 
the  previous  one.  The  immediate  surroundings 
were  now  rolling  hills,  sloping  from  the  long 
mountain  backs,  covered  with  high  forests. 

Three  men  from  the  Red,  or  Bliicher,  Hussars 
rode  closely  beside  one  another  on  the  high- 
way, bending  forward,  armed  with  sabers  and 
carbines,  their  falcon  gaze  piercing  to  right  and 
left  of  the  shrubbery.  They  are  in  the  Bohemian 
woods,  under  orders  to  detect  the  enemy's  first 


1 88  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

movements,  who  had  appeared  everywhere  at 
the  outlet  of  the  mountains  and  crests  of  the 
hills,  having  taken  the  most  favorable  positions, 
and  thus  forming  the  extreme  advance,  followed 
at  a  stated  distance  by  the  Third  Division. 
With  sharp  eyes,  ears  quickened,  and  teeth  com- 
pressed, these  three  press  closely  together.  There 
is  nothing  to  be  seen  as  yet  of  the  advancing 
foe ;  but  ten  to  one  they  themselves  have  been 
discovered,  and  will  be  made  the  targets  of 
their  rifles. 

Apparently  it  was  but  a  few  minutes  until  the 
Austrian  leader  called  the  Blucher  Hussars  to  a 
thundering  "halt."  There  was  a  large  number 
of  the  hussars  in  a  bend  of  the  way,  riding  evi- 
dently with  noiseless  precaution ;  and  now  five 
men  belonging  to  the  infantry,  weapons  in  hand, 
advance,  three  of  them  going  before,  and  the 
remaining  two  following.  At  times  they  listen, 
and  creep  along  the  wayside,  peering  through 
the  close  shrubbery,  always  ready  to  cover  them- 
selves behind  the  nearest  tree  if  a  ball  should 
come  crashing  through  the  branches.  A  small 
body  of  infantry  followed  these  five  men  as  a 
protecting  guard  ;  at  that  time  commanded  by  a 
young  lieutenant  whom  a  German  poetess  has 
appropriately  designated  "Everybody's  Darling." 
His  helmet  was  pressed  deeply  over  his  brow, 
while  over  the  finely  shaped  lips  germinated  the 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  189 

first  down.  His  dark  eyes  flashed  proudly  and 
confidently.  Poor  mother  at  home,  well  may'st 
thou  fold  thy  hands  ! 

At  a  distance  of  from  one  to  two  hundred 
steps  emerged  the  encircling  advance  guard, 
several  guns,  one  or  two  battalions.  In  the 
old  oaks  the  cuckoo  called,  and  his  mate  re- 
sponded from  the  forest  depths.  When  the 
cuckoo  calls,  the  German  looks  up  and  counts 
the  seductive  tones  one  by  one,  to  know  the  du- 
ration of  his  life.  "Cuckoo,  how  long  shall 
I  live?"  cries  one  from  the  ranks,  followed  by 
another  and  another  in  the  overwhelming  dust. 
But  the  cuckoo,  seized  by  a  self-same  terror, 
has  spread  her  wings  and  flown  far,  far  away, 
and  out  of  the  distant  echo  comes  no  response. 
With  him  are  silenced,  also,  all  the  other  forest 
birds'.  A  painful  stillness  broods  over  the  mossy, 
odorous  region ;  the  sunbeams  are  still  there,  in 
whose  light  are  seen  the  nervous  tremor  of  the 
leaves. 

How  the  minutes  fly !  A  secret  clock  ticks 
in  this  solemn  wood,  the  ever  and  evermore 
swift  strokes  of  whose  pendulum  follow  in  magic 
succession.  In  long-drawn  columns  the  Third 
Division  presses  forward  to  reach  the  entrance. 

Snap !  crack  !  snap !  from  the  hills,  one,  two, 
three  hundred  times,  piercing  first  the  hard  wood, 
then  the  foliage.  The  war-king  drives  amid  the 


igo  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

shrubbery,  whistling  and  singing  in  its  branches, 
frightening  away  the  feathered  songsters  from 
their  nests,  leaving  their  naked  brood  to  a  dire- 
ful fate.  Or  is  it  the  love-song  of  Mars,  shiv- 
ering into  splinters  the  hearts  of  these  ancient 
trunks? 

Heavily  roll  the  grenades  through  the  light 
air ;  before  their  touch  the  trees  bow.  Death 
and  destruction  follow  their  path  everywhere. 
As  soon  as  the  first  shots  are  fired,  the  three  hus- 
sars turn  their  horses  and  gallop  to  the  officer 
of  the  general's  staff,  whose  duty  it  is  to  com- 
municate to  the  division  commander  the  enemy's 
position.  An  electric  spark  of  danger  is  also 
kindled  along  the  ranks  of  the  slowly  moving 
troops.  There  are  among  them  extremely  young 
soldiers,  who  have  only  been  acquainted  with 
war  in  its  picturesque  maneuvers.  As  the  hor- 
rible swarm  of  blue  bullets  whistle  around  their 
heads,  they  naturally  bow  to  them  in  courtly 
greeting;  but  when  they  become  accustomed  to 
the  sound  they  are  already  passed.  Forward ! 
forward  !  They  are  seized  with  impatient,  feverish 
excitement,  which  is  only  restrained  by  the  icy 
hand  of  discipline  from  the  superior  officers. 

But  the  orders  are  now  for  the  advance  guard 
to  evolve  in  a  long  tirailleur  on  both  sides  of  the 
thicket,  and  the  battalions  unfurl  their  standards. 
A  grand,  never-to-be-forgotten  spectacle  !  Many 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  191 

of  these  battalions  have  only  a  pole ;  others  a 
light  strip  almost  detached  from  the  staff,  which 
will  be  carried  off  by  the  lightest  breeze.  When 
these  remnants  unfurled  their  silken  folds  as  yet 
uninjured,  the  flashing,  stormy  eyes  of  Frederick 
the  Great  looked  upon  his  regiments;  now,  half 
a  century  later,  they  bow  before  the  Field-Marshal 
Bliicher. 

The  divisions,  one  by  one,  leave  the  highway, 
in  order  to  take  their  places.  Adjutants  fly 
hither  and  thither  to  forward  the  troops,  and  as 
soon  as  a  position  is  won  the  firing  becomes 
more  and  more  violent. 

In  the  center  of  the  landscape,  surrounded  by 
his  suite,  -is  the  division  commander,  with  a  field- 
glass  adjusted  to  his  eyes.  He  sits  there  like  a 
bronze  statue,  communicating  his  orders  with  a 
perfect  calm  and  clearness.  The  surrounded 
heights  must  be  stormed,  the  Austrians  driven 
from  hill  to  hill,  and  the  entrance  to  the  forest 
quickly  obtained  by  force.  This  is  the  day's 
exercise:  "Go,  in  the  name  of  God,  and  do 
your  duty !" 

At  the  foot  of  an  old  pasture,  in  the  dust, 
lies  "Everybody's  Darling,"  and  "woe,  woe, 
woe!"  rustles  the  gray  foliage  of  the  sorrowing 
trees.  His  noble  blood  gushes  from  three  gap- 
ing, purple  springs,  and  already  the  beautiful 
lips  are  paled.  The  hand  clutches  the  sword ; 


192  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

the  wildly  excited  eyes  are  in  a  stare.  The 
Sclmzten  lieutenant  has  surrendered  his  life  to 
the  sharp-shooters ;  the  first  sacrifice  has  been 
offered  on  that  bloody  day !  Let  not  your  suf- 
fering be  too  bitter,  thou  lonely  mother  afar ! 

But  he  is  no  longer  alone  in  death.  Already 
they  lie  everywhere.  Beneath  thickets  and  on 
open  ground  agonizing  cries  rise  above  the  bat- 
tle's din  and  roar.  O,  that  terrible  fight  in  the 
field  and  wood!  Nature,  even,  is  in  opposing 
array,  and  there  are  dreadful  wounds  amid  her 
growth  as  well. 

The  great  Austrian  sharp-shooters,  like  ani- 
mals of  prey,  stand  behind  trees,  to  destroy 
their  victims  and  protect  themselves.  As  from 
tree  to  tree  the  battle  was  begun,  so  from  tree 
to  tree  advance  the  Prussian  grenadiers  and  fusi- 
liers. One  company  after  another  loses  its  leader, 
but  they  do  their  duty. 

Soon  after  seven  o'clock  the  king's  Grenadier 
Regiment  entered  the  fight.  The  Second  Bat- 
talion, in  which  Captains  Elmbach  and  Von 
Drambow  led  the  Fifth  and  Eighth  Companies, 
find  themselves  suddenly  in  the  gloomy  fir-forest, 
amid  the  demoniacal  tempest.  While  the  first 
companies  divide  right  and  left,  the  sixth  and 
seventh  remain  united,  the  same  murderous  fire 
inclosing  them  as  that  of  the  advance  guard. 
The  Austrian  artillery  is  fearfully  effective.  To 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  193 

equalize  the  power  of  the  breech-loaders,  stand 
the  dexterous  and  sure  sharp-shooters  of  the 
emperor's  especial  guard — brave  Tyrolese  chil- 
dren, furnished  with  no  less  than  two  repeating 
rifles  each,  and  dealing  destruction  with  unerr- 
ing aim.  Elmbach,  fighting  in  a  part  of  the 
forest  alone,  perceives  his  officers  fall  and  his 
company  melt  away  almost  in  a  body.  An  in- 
describable excitement  took  possession  of  him 
and  his  grenadiers.  The  blood  rushed  to  their 
hearts,  sparks  flew  from  their  eyes.  Beneath 
their  battered  colors  lay  their  comrades,  covered 
with  torn  branches  of  tree  and  shrub,  which  the 
forest  compassionately  spread  over  their  fatal 
wounds.  But  it  was  not  possible  to  hide  the 
bloody  dew  that  trembled  on  the  blooming 
mosses,  dropped  from  the  leaves,  and  caused  their 
feet  to  slip. 

But  Elmbach  is  still  there !  Like  a  lion  in 
the  bushes,  he  is  possessed  of  a  species  of  ani- 
mating intoxication,  and  in  the  intervals  of  the 
crashing  grenades  which  came  plunging  from 
the  hills,  one  might  have  heard  his  entreating 
prayer:  "Keep  these  from  me!"  But  they  are 
regardless,  and  follow  him  as  a  magnet  follows 
iron ;  he  has  enkindled  them  with  the  blazing 
fervor  of  his  own  spirit,  and  contends  against 
them  as  a  god  of  war  before  the  cannon's  mouth, 
through  water  and  fire,  before  the  scythe  of 


194  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

death,  until  the  last  breath  be  drawn.  Elmbach 
seems  as  one  set  apart,  consecrated,  in  the  midst 
of  this  rain  of  bullets  and  crashing  of  grenades. 
His  helmet  had  been  shot  away,  his  uniform  torn 
in  tatters  upon  the  trees'  broken  teeth ;  his 
strong,  muscular  bosom  rises  and  swells  in  the 
stormy  exertion ;  his  dripping  forehead  is  dis- 
regarded, because  no  blood  is  there,  and  thus  he 
presses  forward  unceasingly,  unrestingly.  Vic- 
tory attaches  to  his  heel.  Step  by  step  he  draws 
the  enemy  from  the  wood ;  but  now  he  is  with 
the  remnant  of  his  company,  alone  on  the  edge 
of  a  hill  before  them,  separated  only  by  a 
meadow,  thence  rising  to  an  extended  plateau, 
where  stands  the  village  of  Unterlochow. 

Elmbach's  superior  officer  and  many  of  the 
staff  have  fallen,  and,  despite  the  best  intentions, 
not  all  of  his  men  have  advanced.  For  a  mo- 
ment he  is  sorely  perplexed ;  but  from  the  be- 
ginning he  has  had  the  best  assistance  in  the 
form  of  a  reserve  at  his  side,  braver  than  the 
bravest,  with  the  wings  of  Mercury  on  his  feet, 
battling  with  his  captain  in  the  fullness  of  that 
whole-souled  fidelity  found  among  the  old  Ger- 
man esquires.  He  can  no  longer  shoot,  as  the 
barrel  of  his  gun  has  become  red-hot,  but  in  the 
language  of  an  old  Pomeranian  song: 

"  When  it  goes  no  longer  for  shooting 
We  '11  use  it  with  might  as  a  club." 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  195 

So  had   this  faithful  attendant  more   than    once 
been  to  Elmbach  an  invaluable  helper. 

Schultz  is  useful  everywhere ;  the  necessity 
of  the  moment  advances  him  to  adjutant.  Al- 
fred Winter  is  near  with  snapping  eyes  and 
streaming  hair,  no  longer  able  to  blow  his  horn, 
which  is  turned  upside  down  on  his  parched  lips. " 
A  sharp  call  from  the  captain  enables  him  to  col- 
lect his  scattered  senses,  and  now  Elmbach  is  in 
position  to  calculate  his  losses.  They  are  severe, 
and  a  bitter  pang  pierces  his  soul.  His  brave 
men  have  been  bruised  and  broken  as  were  the 
poppies  on  the  evening  before  by  the  now  for- 
saken bivouac,  and  lie  here  and  there  bedecked 
in  a  field  of  blood. 

"Death  is  better  than  fatal,  lingering  wounds," 
he  consoles  himself;  and  choking  down  his 
grief,  he  orders  a  rest,  that  they  may  be  ready 
for  further  action,  making  Schultz  4eader  of  a 
patrol  whose  duty  it  shall  be  to  look  after  the 
three  other  companies. 

In  a  cool  spot,  where  firs  have  grown  like 
columns  covered  with  graceful  vines,  and  mount- 
ain streams  wreathed  with  forget-me-nots  softly 
murmur,  Captain  Von  Drambow  is  engaged  in 
the  fight  with  the  intense  earnestness  of  the 
cautious,  experienced  warrior ;  not  less  ener- 
getic, not  less  fiery  than  Elmbach,  although  it 
was  only  yesterday  he  had  heard  the  death- 


1 96  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

angel's  wings  flitting  over  his  head.  With  fath- 
erly consideration  he  will  not  sacrifice  heedlessly 
the  lives  of  his  subalterns.  Himself  linked  to 
life  with  double  bands,  the  humblest  mother's 
son  is  precious  in  his  sight.  Pressed  well-nigh 
to  death  by  the  superior  numbers  of  the  enemy, 
he  becomes  suddenly  engaged  in  a  personal,  hand- 
to-hand  encounter.  From  a  clump  of  twisted 
birch  an  Austrian  unexpectedly  points  toward 
him  the  barrel  of  his  gun,  while  two  others 
bring  the  points  of  their  bayonets  to  bear  upon 
him.  A  moment  later  and  the  beloved  shall 
lie  on  the  cool  earth,  and  the  thirsty  ground  shud- 
deringly  drink  his  precious  blood. 

His  little  wife  at  this  hour  sits  in  the  little 
sanctuary  beside  Adolph's  cradle.  The  book 
she  has  been  reading  has  fallen  in  her  lap,  cov- 
ered with  burning,  anxious  tears.  It  is  always 
to  the  sarril  portion  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  she 
turns — the  ninety-first  Psalm,  which  her  husband 
read  at  parting.  She  clings  to  its  rich,  consol- 
ing assurances  as  an  only  hope.  O,  it  is  indeed 
well  that  your  gaze  can  not  penetrate  walls  and 
wood,  and  that  it  is  not  possible  .for  you  to  witness 
that  scene  in  the  Bohemian  forest !  If  a  miracle 
had  not  intervened,  your  beloved  must  have 
fallen ;  but  at  the  critical  moment,  quick  as 
lightning  an  invisible,  restraining  power  turns 
the  hands  of  the  clock  backward  upon  its 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  197 

unsightly  dial,  and  one  of  the  grenadiers  strikes 
the  Austrian  to  the  earth  with  the  butt  of  his 
gun,  and  the  impending  shot  crashes  through 
the  wood.  Quick  as  a  flash  the  grenadier  is  met 
by  the  two  protecting  soldiers,  but  covering  his 
captain's  body,  as  if  by  superhuman  force,  his 
broad  chest  stands  like  a  living  wall  between 
them  and  certain  death. 

As  a  Pomeranian  peasant,  he  had  acquired 
an  almost  brute  force,  and  now  seizing  one 
of  his  adversaries,  as  a  wild  bear  with  his  paws, 
he  has  vanquished  him  with  a  short,  powerful 
twist;  while  the  other,  fastened  in  his  steely 
arms,  is  thrown  to  the  earth,  and  gleaming  over 
his  breast  is  Christian's  sharp  bayonet  spike. 

"Halt !"  cried  Drambow,  grasping  the  weapon 
to  bear  it  off;  "take  the  fellow  prisoner.  I 
thank  you,  my  son;  you  have  saved  my  life." 

Christian  was  quite  satisfied  to  obey.  A 
scuffle  gives  him  unalloyed  pleasure ;  but  he 
would  only  kill  if  he  must. 

"How  did  you  come  here  so  quickly?"  in- 
quired Drambow,  whom  the  occurrences  of  the 
last  minutes  had  advanced  from  the  scene  of  the 
battle's  greatest  violence. 

"Sir  Captain,  I  promised  her  ladyship  to 
look  after  the  Sir  Captain;"  wherewith  Christian 
showed  his  great  white  teeth  in  a  satisfied  smile. 

Immediately   thereafter    a    patrol    leader   ap- 


198  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

peared,  with  the  information  that  Company  Fifth 
had  reached  the  edge  of  the  wood  and  awaited 
the  coming  of  the  other  companies.  Captain 
Von  Drambow  at  once  decided  to  strike  for  the 
same  direction,  which  he  could  now  accomplish 
unhindered,  as  the  enemy  had  retreated  on 
all  sides. 

When  he  reached  the  spot,  he  found  the 
Fifth,  Sixth,  and  Seventh  Companies  in  the 
immediate  neighborhood.  The  major  then  ar- 
ranged the  battalion,  and  issued  orders  to  cross 
the  meadow  and  take  Unterlochow,  which  was 
already  abandoned  by  the  enemy. 

At  the  upper  side  of  the  meadow  was  a 
rich,  extensive  plateau,  as  if  formed  naturally 
for  the  theater  of  a  great  war  drama.  The 
troops  rushed  from  the  forest,  took  possession 
of  Unterlochow,  stormed  further  forward,  and 
were  soon  upon  the  height,  from  which  the  foe  was 
to  be  seen  on  all  sides.  A  frightful  rain  of  bul- 
lets and  shells  met  them ;  man  after  man  among 
the  grenadiers  fell ;  the  major  sank  from  his 
horse,  fatally  wounded ;  and  now  Elmbach  be- 
comes the  hero  of  the  day.  And  hero  he  will 
be,  if  God  sustain  him  ;  and,  wonderfully  enough, 
God  seems  over  and  under  him  in  this  doubly 
critical  moment.  What  matters  life  to  this  proud 
man  ?  Where  so  many  are  falling  for  father- 
land, he  also  would  perish,  if  need  be.  What 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  199 

is  of  infinitely  more  value  than  earthly  exist- 
ence, his  honor,  his  military  fame,  hang  as  by  a 
thread,  inseparably  connected  with  the  conduct 
of  the  battalion,  the  command  of  which  now 
devolves  upon  him. 

The  discipline  of  this  battalion  has  become 
wholly  demoralized,  and  a  perceptible  wavering 
has  taken  possession  of  the  remaining  few.  Of- 
ficers are  wanting  to  unite  the  companies.  The 
rain  of  shot  continues  more  and  more  violent. 
Like  the  ingot  on  the  balance,  the  courage  of  the 
few  scattered  troops  wavers ;  but  Elmbach  is 
there,  to  add  his  own  intrepidity  and  will  to  the 
trembling  moment.  Mounting  the  major's  horse, 
he  rushes  to  and  fro  like  a  whirlwind,  in  the  face 
of  the  fire,  and  as  his  forces  can  not  advance  and 
will  not  retreat,  Unterlochow  being  destroyed,  he 
orders  the  men  to  lie  prostrate  upon  the  ground, 
where,  with  restored  equanimity,  pressed  to  the 
bosom  of  the  earth,  they  give  shot  for  shot. 

The  ground  now  trembles  beneath  them,  and 
a  sound  as  of  rushing  water  fills  the  ear.  They 
perceive  no  sea-waves,  only  vast  clouds  of  dust 
in  the  distance,  which  divide;  then  a  flash  of 
lightning ;  then  a  living  wall  of  bending  mounted 
cavalry,  swinging  their  keen  blades,  and  the 
Hungarian  hussars  storm  the  second  battalion  of 
the  king's  regiment. 

How   they   thirst   to   bathe   their   swords    in 


200  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

Prussian  blood,  to  engrave  their  regiment's  name 
indelibly  upon  the  annals  of  1866! 

Calmly,  without  a  single  tremor,  head  erect, 
with  sublimest  spiritual  flaming  expression,  sits 
the  solitary  horseman  yonder,  as  if  he  would 
meet  alone  that  mighty  approaching  wave.  Al- 
ready his  men  receive  their  orders:  "Cavalry 
approaches;  hear;  up — ready!  No  firing  before 
the  word  is  given.  Be  calm,  and  do  not  aim 
too  high." 

His  flashing  eyes  sweep  over  the  battalion, 
now  risen  to  their  feet — a  wall  of  fearless  men, 
ready  to  do  and  die.  Not  a  foot  wavers  a  hair's- 
breadth. 

Elmbach's  highest  aim  is  now  attained.  O, 
German  fidelity,  thou  standest  here  once  again 
in  full  blossom,  and  the  bloody  hand  of  war 
entwines  for  thee  an  immortal  crown ! 

On,  on,  the  light-blue,  brave  hussars  advance, 
until  within  a  hundred  steps,  when  Elmbach 
meets  them  with  a  salvo.  The  result  is  frightful. 
As  if  struck  by  lightning,  they  leap  from1  their 
saddles  or  hang  limp  on  their  horses'  necks ; 
but  as  the  fallen  disappear,  those  in  the  rear  take 
their  places,  only  to  meet  the  same  dreadful 
fate.  Brave  Hungarian  hussars  !  they  would  dare 
all  things,  save  to  shrink  from  the  impending 
attack. 

Again  Elmbach's  sharp  command:    "Fire!" 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  201 

again  a  horrible  destruction  amid  the  advancing 
foe  !  At  length  one  rider  turns,  one  after  another 
follows,  until  the  whole  mass  begins  to  retreat, 
and  there  remains  nothing  more,  save  a  rem- 
nant of  his  splendid  regiment,  to  the  Austrian 
emperor ! 

Elmbach  breathes  loftily ;  but  already  drums 
and  horns  are  heard  in  the  distance.  In  meas- 
ured tread,  as  on  the  parade-ground,  advances  a 
battalion  of  the  enemy's  infantry,  "the  Hungarian 
regiment."  Again  he  proves  his  grenadiers  with 
lightning  glance ;  but  there  is  nothing  more  to 
fear.  If  they  had  been  cold  or  listless  compara- 
tively before,  now  they  are  fired  with  a  battle's 
inspiration.  With  such  a  leader  they  would  fight 
on  the  Alps,  press  to  the  summit  of  Egyptian 
pyramids,  and  put  Napoleon  the  First's  glory 
to  shame! 

They  lie  prostrate  again,  until  the  foe  with 
beating  drums,  are  near.  "Quick,  fire!"  and 
the  breech-loaders  perform  their  sad  duty. 

Like  a  swarm  of  partridges  among  which  a 
cloud  of  small  shot  is  thrown,  the  enemy  falls; 
but  they  are  brave  soldiers,  and  press  forward 
unhaltingly,  despite  the  merciless  fire,  until 
so  many  of  their  officers  are  fallen  and  their 
ranks  are  so  thinned  they  can  proceed  no 
farther,  and  turn  to  flight.  An  incessant  hail  of 
bullets  follows  them,  and  Elmbach  seizes  the 


202  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

favorable  moment  to  win  a  cover  on  the  plateau's 
edge,  meanwhile  following  the  Hungarian  regi- 
ment, which  is  subdued,  being  compelled  to 
restrain  their  firing  lest  they  shoot  down  in  their 
retreat  their  own  men.  His  brave  grenadiers 
must  now  perforce  gain  a  much  needed  rest,  and 
while  the  Jager  Pomeranian  battalion  pursue  the 
foe,  the  Second  rests  upon  a  cliff  in  the  close- 
burnt  grass,  overgrown  with  thyme. 

Elmbach  found  himself  in  an  extraordinary  po- 
sition. He  wished  to  bear  the  struggles  equally 
with  all,  in  that  significant  moment  when  he 
had  been  called  to  take  command  of  the  bat- 
talion, but  his  inward  fear  lest  he  should  be 
unable  to  unite  and  hold  the  scattered,  demor- 
alized force  against  an  ignominious  fate,  led  to  a 
veritable  cry  to  Heaven  for  help.  He  realized 
that  Almighty  Power  alone  was  able  to  deliver  and 
sustain  him.  And  now  the  deed  had  been  ac- 
complished. He  was  hailed  as  hero  of  the  day, 
and  looked  upon  with  reverential  veneration : 
while  he,  himself,  felt  he  should  take  off  his  hel- 
met (which  he  really  no  longer  possessed),  and 
lift  a  prayer  of  thanksgiving  to  the  God  of  bat- 
tles. He  scarcely  knew  how  to  express  it,  but 
he  would  utter  Peter's  words :  "Depart  from  me, 
for  I  am  a  sinful  man,  O  Lord." 

Then  has  Elmbach,  also,  become  a  believer? 
It  was  with  astonishment  he  made  this  revela- 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  203 

tion  of  himself.  Like  the  Christ-rose  under  the 
snow,  it  had  struggled  and  bloomed,  in  spite  of 
doubts ;  and  if  in  this  hour  some  learned  scien- 
tist of  the  nineteenth  century  had  met  the  deeply 
moved  young  officer  with — "There  is  no  God, 
or  at  least  none  revealed ;  we  have  found  Him 
neither  in  the  retort  nor  under  the  Sezier-knife  " — 
he  would  have  turned  indignantly  away  and 
openly  declared:  "I  have  not  been  baptized  in 
vain.  I  have  just  received  a  direct  answer  to 
prayer.  The  riddle  of  existence  requires  no 
finely-spun  theories  in  order  to  understand  it. 
Who  would  solve  it,  must  live  it,  must  live  it 
through  and  through." 

Just  then  a  hand  met  his  own.  "I  congratu- 
late you,  dear  Elmbach.  You  have  performed  a 
master-stroke.  I  thought  we  were  lost." 

"My  dear  Drambow,  how  happy  I  am  to  see 
you  unharmed !  Do  you  realize  now  the  signifi- 
cance of  your  forebodings?" 

"The  prayers  of  my  darling  wife  are  with 
me,"  murmured  Drambow;  and  as  Elmbach 
made  no  response,  he  added  with  deep  earnest- 
ness:  "There  is  something  in  them,  in  spite  of 
Balaam's  ass  and  Jonah's  .whale ;  in  spite  of  the 
sun  standing  still  at  noonday  in  the  valley  of 
Askalon,  and  the  fiery  chariot  in  which  Elijah 
was  carried  to  heaven.  Away  with  all  skepti- 
cism!  'Necessity  teaches  us  how  to  pray,'  says 


204  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

an  old  German  proverb.  I  like  these  proverbs 
when  they  are  "in  harmony  with  my  belief;  they 
are  short  as  the  handle  of  my  sword,  but  deep 
as  the  springs  in  the  forest." 

"They  are  giving  themselves  a  vast  deal  of 
trouble  to  recover  again  what  can  only  be  done 
by  miracle,"  said  Elmbach,  speaking  very  slowly, 
wiping  his  forehead,  and  throwing  his  glance 
toward  the  plateau,  where,  although  mildly  at 
first,  now  came  quite  a  storm  of  bullets — "they 
are  giving  themselves  a  vast  deal  of  trouble  to 
show  succeeding  generations  that  these  stony 
trees  they  shall  discover  are  only  antediluvian 
layers  from  the  strata  of  these  mountains,  and 
the  world  nothing  but  a  heap  of  rubbish  !  A 
man  would  be  no  happier,  but  I  love  the  truth. 
I  do  n't  make  much  of  illusions ;  I  have  a  dispo- 
sition that  longs  for  peace." 

"It  is  not  necessary,"  replied  Drambow,  "as 
my  little  wife  says,  to  know  such  things  ;  one 
only  needs  to  see  his  child  lying  abandoned  in  his 
cradle,  and  the  mother  beside  it  in  despair,  then 
to  march  for  three  weeks  through  Bohemia  with 
the  belief  that  one  is  to  be  buried  in  this  strange 
land.  One  knows  then  how  much  the  old  faith 
is  worth.  God  forgive  me !  mine  has  not  been 
very  lively.  It  was  but  a  spark  in  the  wick ; 
the  war  blew  upon  it,  and  a  flame  blazed  up. 
What  is  learning  ?  what  is  the  science  of  nature  ? 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  205 

Do  they  help  us  to  live  or  to  die  ?  There  is 
a  knowledge — the  existence  and  fate  of  man ; 
and  whoever  does  not  see  therein  God's  hand, 
never  beholds  it  elsewhere." 

"Still  I  should  like  to  have  the  knowledge," 
replied  Elmbach.  "We  are  no  longer  mediaeval 
knights;  we  have  other  necessities." 

"Now  you  knock  half-supposed  stones,  and 
begin  to  count  the  monkey's  vertebrae ;  what  has 
that  to  do  with  faith?"  pursued  Drambow. 

Elmbach  only  smiled;  but  he  added,  after  a 
pause:  "I  shall  never  forget  this  day.  I  have 
learned  to  view  such  things  from  a  different 
stand-point.  But  what  is  that  yonder?  Are  the 
men  quarreling?  It  seems  as  though  they  are 
unable  to  come  out  of  a  combat  like  this,  sud- 
denly." 

"It  is  only  that  eccentric  Winter,  the  Jack 
of  your  Fifth  Company." 

The  two  officers  proceeded  to  the  spot  where  a 
.crowd  of  soldiers  had  collected,  and  found  there 
Alfred  Winter  standing  on  a  rock,  fife  in  mouth, 
playing  one  of  the  light  dance  melodies  so  popu- 
lar in  our  day.  He  had  wound  a  gay  turban 
around  his  head,  and  hung  the  cloak  of  a  Hun- 
garian hussar  over  his  shoulders,  while  upon 
his  hip  appeared  to  view  a  straw-covered  field- 
flask,  the  contents  of  which  had  been  too  freely 
imbibed. 


206  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

"What  is  this?"  asked  Elmbach,  whose  pres- 
ence soon  formed  a  circle  and  restored  quiet. 

"Sir  Captain,"  replied  Schultz,  modestly, 
'.'I  told  him  it  is  not  becoming  to  play  a  schot- 
tisch  before  our  dead  are  under  the  ground ;  but 
he  calls  me  a  donkey,  and  says  he  will  have  a 
holiday,  that  they  are  nothing  to  him." 

"Sir  Captain,"  cried  Winter  from  his  ped- 
estal, "I  am  no  friend  to  ghosts.  He  wants 
me,  a  Prussian  grenadier  of  the  king's  regiment, 
and  artist  musician,  to  play  on  the  fife  a  song 
that  I  learned  from  a  sewing  woman.  But  I  will 
not  do  it ;  I  did  n't  whip  the  Austrians  with  that !" 

Loud  laughter  followed  this  speech. 

"Why  do  you  call  reserve  Schultz  nick- 
names?" 

"Sir  Captain,  I  didn't  give  him  the  name. 
He  is  always  so  retiring  and  meek  that  his  officer 
once  said  to  him:  "Schultz,  strike  yourself  on 
the  head  and  say :  '  Dear  Lord,  I  am  a  donkey  ; 
make  me  a  sensible  man.'  Since  then  we  give 
him  that  name  when  we  are  angry,  but  when  \vc 
are  on  good  terms,  we  call  him  the  'contented 
cobbler. ' ' 

"Schultz,"  said  Elmbach,  turning  towards  him, 
"I  wish  to  confer  upon  you  the  title  of  corporal, 
on  account  of  your  brave  conduct  during  the  bat- 
talion's model  service.  As  for  religious  songs, 
Gu stave  Adolph,  the  illustrious  Swedish  king, 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  207 

and  a  brave  soldier,  as  well  as  the  grenadiers  of 
old  Fritz,  have  all  sung  them  on  the  battle-field." 

A  rousing  "hurrah!"  and  the  oft-repeated 
"Long  live  our  captain,  the  ^hero  of  Unterlo- 
chovv!"  followed  these  words.  Schultz  stepped 
quietly  to  his  side,  with  beaming  eyes  that  be- 
trayed a  heart-felt  emotion.  No  one  desired  to 
trifle  with  him  any  longer,  for  they  now  looked 
upon  him  in  the  light  of  a  superior. 

Elmbach,  being  convinced  that  the  battalion 
was  once  more  in  condition  to  march,  soon  had 
them  on  the  way.  He  wished,  above  all,  to 
unite  the  regiments,  as  the  Austrians  had  re- 
treated from  hill  to  hill,  and  it  became  necessary 
for  the  Prussians  to  follow  them. 

The  colonel  of  the  king's  Grenadier  Regiment 
sent  out  inquiries  for  the  Second  Battalion's  fate. 
Elmbach  meets  him  on  the  edge  of  the  forest, 
and  after  the  young  hero  of  the  day  has  passed 
through  the  enthusiastic  hurrahs  of  the  remain- 
ing officers,  he  takes  his  position  next  to  the 
colonel,  who  says:  "Think  of  me,  dear  cap- 
tain ;  this  honor  is  deservedly  yours,  pour  le 
m/rite." 

It  had  become  dark.  The  fir-branches  quiv- 
ered in  the  evening  breeze.  The  Bohemian  for- 
est had  donned  its  mourning  garments  over  the  fall 
of  her  noble  sons,  over  the  shattered  branches, 
over  the  torn  needles  and  twigs,  over  the  blood- 


208  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

stained  brooks  in  the  cool  earth,  over  the  heart- 
rending desecration  of  its  especially  cheerful, 
sacred,  and  blissful  peace-solitude.  While  these 
lofty,  noble  firs  nod  sorrowfully  to  one  another, 
the  firmament's  sable  vault  becomes  bespangled 
with  myriads  of  glistening,  beaming  stars.  Elm- 
bach  thinks  of  his  star,  and  concludes  to  sacri- 
fice the  former's  majesty  for  the  latter's  loveliness, 
and  although  ltpour  le  mtrite"  the  goal  of  his 
most  glowing  ambition  has  been  attained,  he 
replies  to  himself,  choking  down  a  sigh:  "I 
shall  be  promoted  to  distinction  amid  the  no- 
bility, through  various  orders ;  not  that  I  should 
be  discontented  with  my  father's  highly  hon- 
ored name;  but,"  straightening  himself  proudly, 
"when  one  leaves  home  and  love  and  poetry  for 
his  country's  honor,  and  marries,  and  has  sons — " 

Captain  Von  Drambow,  who  had  remained  in 
the  rear  with  his  company,  now  came  forward,  and 
said :  ' '  When  we  speak  of  titles,  may  I  be  per- 
mitted to  mention  the  name  of  my  attendant, 
Christian  ?  He  has  truly  been  the  means  of 
saving  my  life,  and  his  entire  conduct  has  been 
most  exemplary  and  resolute. " 

"He  shall  not  be  forgotten,"  replied  the 
adjutant,  "and  if  he  deserves  an  order,  it  should 
be  that  of  a  bear." 

The  cloud  which  had  encircled  Drambow  ever 
since  he  had  left  Stettin  is  again  present  with 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  209 

more  than  usual  gloom,  standing  between  him 
and  his  sweetest  earthly  hopes,  coldly  and  relent- 
lessly. He  is  troubled ;  but  his  soul  rises  like  a 
young  butterfly  in  the  sun's  beams,  that  enfolds 
its  wings  with  confidence,  knowing  they  will 
soon  expand  and  bear  him  aloft,  far  above  this 
wearisome  caterpillar  existence.  A  mild  serenity 
sits  enthroned  upon  Drambow's  brow.  "Yes, 
there  is  something  in  it,"  reiterating  Elmbach's 
expression;  "there  is  more,  my  friend,  im- 
measurably more ;  there  is  eternal  life  itself; 
there  is  everything !  It  will  bring  me  to  my 
little  wife  and  Adolph,  and  unite  us  all  in  a 
happy  resurrection.  Praise  the  Lord !  Praise 
God,  who  permits  me  to  know  and  embrace  this, 
at  even  the  last  hour!" 

A  silver-blue  light  now  trembles  amid  the 
fir-branches.  A  magic,  milky  softness  has  fallen 
on  the  fragrant  needles,  as  if  to  lull  to  oblivion 
its  woe  and  frightful  visions.  The  moonbeams 
glide  among  the  branches ;  and  now  the  veil  of 
night  is  drawn  aside,  and  one  sees  the  dead 
sleepers  lying  here  and  there  on  moss  and  fern. 
The  face  of  one  is  pressed  upon  the  dark  green 
cushion,  while  another  gazes  with  stark  eyes 
toward  heaven,  a  smile  upon  his  pallid  counte- 
nance. Others  have  writhed  and  struggled  there, 
with  no  friendly  hand  to  moisten  their  parched 
lips,  and  died  there  alone  in  their  agony. 

18 


210  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

In  the  distance  are  seen  the  ambulance  lanterns, 
flitting  hither  and  thither  like  glow-worms.  O, 
search  thoroughly,  search  everywhere,  search  once 
more,  that  no  beloved  one  may  be  overlooked! 
Leave  no  hidden  corners !  Do  you  know  what 
it  is  to  lie  there  quivering  in  agony  while  the 
drum-beat  grows  fainter  and  more  faint  in  the  dis- 
tance, and  the  sound  of  the  marching  comrades 
farther  and  farther  away,  until  it  becomes  the 
faintest  echo?  And  then  to  be  alone  with  the 
dead  and  dying,  a  helpless  prey  to  the  thirsty 
hyenas  of  the  battle-field ;  a  weary,  languishing 
one  ;  an  outcast,  a  forsaken  ! 

There  was  still  much  to  be  done  on  the  fol- 
lowing day.  It  was  ten  o'clock  when  the  gath- 
ered forces  marched  on  the  highway  towards 
Gitschen.  An  hour  later  the  city  was  reached, 
and  a  violent,  awful  encounter  ensued,  which 
resulted  in  a  complete  seizure  of  the  place,  after 
an  obstinate,  heroic  opposition  from  the  Aus- 
trians  and  Saxons.  This  battle  is  so  well  known 
on  account  of  numerous  thrilling  descriptions, 
that  the  reader  needs  no  repetition  here.  The 
twenty-ninth  of  June  had  come  to  an  end  with 
the  most  wonderful  results. 


VII. 

'  We  set  up  idols  in  these  souls  of  ours, 
Then  bend  the  knee,  and  blindly  them  adore  ; 
And  what  to  other  eyes  is  .nothing  more 
Than  dross  and  gilding,  or  a  passing  glare, 
We  find  no  spot  or  wrinkle  anywhere. 
We  place  these  cherished  idols  on  the  heights, 
And  gaze  with  fond,  unutterable  love 
On  that  which  seems  so  far  removed  above 
The  touch  and  stain  of  earth.     Alas  I  that  we 
Should  come  at  length  in  bitterness  to  see 
These  precious  graven  im.nges  of  ours  — 
Despite  our  love  and  vigilance  and  care, 
Which  should  have  kept  them  beautiful  and  fair  — 
Brought  low;  and  in  a  brief,  sweet  summer's  day, 
Behold  them  sadly,  strangely  turned  to  clay. 
Iconoclasts,  unwillingly  we  are  ; 
But  lifting  our  lean,  hungry  souls  on  high 
To  Him  in  whom  there  is  no  change,  we  cry: 
'  Take  these  dry  husks,  and  grant  us  living  bread  ; 
Take  these  earth-idols,  shrine  Thyself  instead.'  " 

—  CORNELIA.  MCFADDEN. 


a  large  bunch  of  roses  in  her  hand, 
Linnie   entered  the  mansard  home  early, 
and  stood  before  her  mother.    -The  room 
was  overflowing  with  golden  sunshine,  but 
invalid    was    evidently    not     in     sympathy 


212  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

with  her  surroundings.  She  sat  bolt  upright  in 
bed,  an  evidently  intentional  expression  of  dis- 
pleasure upon  her  face.  Several  days  had  passed 
since  the  outbreak  of  cholera  at  General  Von 
Geldern's,  and  the  old  mother  was  sorely  an- 
noyed that  her  daughter  not  only  incurred 
the  danger  of  infection,  but  remained  away 
from  her  so  long  at  a  time.  Asta  did  not  need 
her  personal  attention  now,  but  Linnie  was  un- 
able to  leave  her;  and,  having  been  disobe- 
dient, she  endeavored  to  allay  her  mother's  oppo- 
sition with  a  gift  of  roses.  She  arranged  the 
lovely  flowers  in  a  pretty  glass  vase,  placing  it 
on  a  table  near.  Then  she  brought  in  the  coffee. 

But  Frau  Bergmann  impatiently  pushed  the 
cup  aside:  "Nothing  tastes  good  to  me;  some- 
thing is  wrong  with  my  appetite,  and  you  are  to 
blame  for  it." 

"Dear  mother,  you  must  get  better  soon. 
Shall  I  do  nothing  for  the  young  soldiers  who 
have  gone  to  war?" 

"You  go  about  everywhere,"  murmured  the 
invalid;  "you  seem  to  think  they  can  neither 
live  nor  die  without  you.  Besides,  you  have 
been  with  baker  Hartmann's  daughter-in-law.  I 
am  in  the  world  yet,  I  should  think." 

"Be  a  Christian,  a  brave  hero,  I  have  often 
admonished  shoemaker  Schultz ;  and  now  shall 
I — "  and  standing  before  the  mirror,  Linnie  be- 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  213 

gan  to  laugh :  ' '  My  father  was  a  submissive 
soldier  in  his  day  under  trying  circumstances ; 
but,  mother,  would  you  have  me  an  Austrian  in 
our  fatherland's  time  of  need?" 

"Have  you  come  into  the  world  for  the 
benefit  of  all  Stettin?  You  run  around  by  day, 
and  sit  sewing  for  miserable  people  at  night. 
What  good  does  that  do  for  your  poor  sick 
mother?" — and  suddenly  from  the  bed  came 
violent  though  somewhat  forced  sobs. 

Linnie,  armed  with  the  roses,  embraced  the 
petulant  one,  holding  the  lovely  flowers  before 
her  weeping  eyes ;  but  from  behind  them,  in 
half-broken  sobs,  was  heard:  "If — you — only 
did  not  go — among  the  rich  !  They  do  n't  need 
you.  I  am  like  the  poor  man  with  his  only 
ewe  lamb ;  even  that  was  taken  from  him.  They 
have  money,  and  do  n't  need  a  seamstress's 
services." 

"Mother,  dear,  we  can't  help  loving  rich 
people  sometimes.  They  are  just  like  ourselves, 
and  are  obliged  to  keep  body  and  soul  together 
as  well ;  and  they  are  all  so  good  to  me — so  good — 
very  precious  jewels,  dear  mother.  But  I  will 
sit  with  you  all  afternoon,  and  repair  your  black 
dress,  and  read  to  you.  You  must  n't  be  naughty. 
Drink  your  coffee  while  it  is  hot." 

Who  could  resist  Linnie  ?  The  heavily  clouded 
forehead  cleared,  and  the  trembling  hands  reached 


214  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

eagerly  for  the  cup.  "Then  we  shall  have  a 
pleasant  day,  and  you  must  buy  something  spe- 
cial for  our  dinner,  these  dreadful  times." 

Linnie  assented  to  everything.  She  was  glad 
to  see  her  mother  bright  again,  and  enjoy  her 
breakfast  with  relish.  They  remained  together 
all  day;  and  when  the  sunbeams  fell  aslant  in 
the  little  mansard,  the  daughter  was  still  there, 
and  the  old  black  dress  looked  like  a  new 
garment. 

"Linnie,"  began  the  mother,  after  a  long 
silence,  "I  have  been  thinking  so  much  about 
your  father  to  day.  He  was  a  superior  man ; 
and  what  beautiful  penmanship  was  his !  Every 
letter  was  as  clear  and  perfect  as  copperplate, 
at  the  same  time  ornamented  with  flourishes 
like  vining  tendrils.  If  I  could  only  see  him 
there  in  his  armchair!"  Frau  Bergmann  began 
to  weep  softly,  very  differently  from  her  previous 
outburst. 

Linnie  made  no  reply.  Her  father  she  be- 
lieved to  be  her  second  better  nature ;  from  him 
had  been  inherited  her  sincere,  child-like  faith 
and  certain  ideal  views  of  life.  The  world  had 
always  been  in  bloom  to  him. 

"I  would  never  say  anything  to  him  about 
his  smoking,  and  never  scold  him  for  not  using 
the  door-scraper.  He  did  n't  understand  worldly 
matters ;  if  he  had,  we  should  not  be  as  we 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  215 

are,   with  our  fortune  wasted.      But  he  could  n't 
help  it;  it  was  his  nature." 

"Yes,  it  was  his  nature,"  replied  Linnie,  a 
gentle  melancholy  resting  upon  her  low  brow. 

"One  should  always  watch  the  fingers  of 
people,"  resumed  the  old  mother  with  more  for- 
titude, "and  give  no  one  too  much  license. 
With  your  father,  he  trusted  everybody.  We 
got  along  very  well  together;  but  one  always  had 
to  mind  in  passing  him,  or  run  the  risk  of  being 
run  over.  'Fridolin,'  I  would  say,  'have  you 
brought  your  handkerchief?'  'Yes,  mother;' 
but  every  time  at  the  church-door  it  was: 
'Mother,  I  haven't  it  with  me.'  Yes,  that  was 
his  nature." 

Linnie  wiped  her  eyes. 

."I  always  feel  anxious  about  him  when  I 
think  of  him  in  heaven,  and  worry  how  he  gets 
along  without  either  of  us  to  wait  upon  him. 
I  tell  you,  Linnie,  he  will  be  all  upside-down, 
and  never  know  how  to  help  himself." 

"Ah,  mother,  be  at  rest;  the  angels  wait 
upon  him,"  consoled  Linnie,  with  a  cheerful 
smile. 

"And  if  they  will  only  give  him  some 
writing  to  do,  it  would  not  be  so  strange  there. 
When  he  used  to  sit  by  the  desk  over  legal 
documents,  he  would  look  up  and  say:  'These 
are  very  important,  mother,  very  important;' 


216  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

then  he  was  perfectly  contented.  Yes,  something 
important  he  must  have  to  do." 

Linnie's  large,  grateful  eyes  were  raised  to  the 
window  which  inclosed  a  small  portion  of  the 
great  sapphire  heavens:  "I  think,  mother,  we 
shall  have  the  work  there  that  we  like ;  but  it 
will  no  longer  weary  us,  and  there  will  be  no 
mistakes  in  it." 

"  How  do  you  know  that?" 

"Because  God  is  not  a  God  of  the  dead,  but 
of  the  living;  and  everything  that  lives  must  be 
active,  must  do  something.  The  state  of  the 
blessed  will  be  very  enjoyable,  dear  mother.  I 
only  wish  we  were  there  now!" 

"Really  one  need  n't  fear  the  cholera  so  much, 
after  all." 

' '  I  am  not  at  all  afraid  on  account  of  myself, 
and  therefore  you  must  n't  be  cross  if  I  give  help 
wherever  I  can." 

The  mother  now  asked  for  some  reading,  and 
once  more  "There  is  rest  for  the  weary"  was 
heard  softly  and  sweetly  in  the  little  room.  Then 
the  invalid,  who  seemed  to  be  more  feeble  than 
usual,  was  soon  fast  asleep. 

Linnie  sat  by  the  half-open  window,  and  con- 
tinued to  sew.  As  the  moon  rose  and  peered 
over  the  table,  she  extinguished  the  lamp,  in 
order  not  to  disturb  the  sleeper.  Her  accus- 
tomed fingers  worked  on  as  in  a  dream.  Was 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  217 

there  need  of  haste  ?  Ah  yes !  haste  enough. 
Yonder  in  a  basement  two  little  ones  lay  in 
death's  embrace,  to  be  prepared  for  burial.  Her 
head  was  bowed  over  the  work  in  that  bright, 
misty  splendor,  and  her  lips  trembled  with  sym- 
pathy for  the  bereaved. 

The  next  morning  was  close  and  sultry.  The 
oppressive  night  has  passed  away,  as  with  heavy 
pulse-throbs  of  a  slow  fever.  People  walked  the 
streets  in  listless  apathy.  "Shall  we  have  a 
storm  today?"  asked  one  of  another;  while  a 
third  in  fearful  consternation  whispered:  "How 
many  on  the  death  list  yesterday  ?" 

"Four  hundred  and  fifty  !     How  will  it  end  ?" 

Although  it  was  not  Friday,  Linnie  gave 
half  the  day  to  the  sick  poor :  ' '  We  live  in  a  won- 
derful time,  and  we  must  manifest  great  love  if 
we  would  live  through  it,"  she  thought. 

When  she  had  rendered  assistance  among  dif- 
ferent humble  homes,  her  steps  were  directed  to 
Hechterling's,  where  she  was  engaged  for  the 
remainder  of  the  day. 

On  the  street-corners  bulletin's  appeared  of 
the  latest  war-news.  Some  one  said:  "There 
is  not  a  single  officer  left  in  the  king's  Grenadier 
Regiment."  A  knife  seemed  to  pierce  her  very 
soul,  and  she  walked  -on  with  hesitating  tread. 
Her  knees  trembled,  and  her  brave  heart  grew 
leaden  with  despondency,  not  so  much  for 
19 


218  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

herself,  but  for  those  around  her.  Ah !  she  well 
knew  how  many  had  rejected  God's  message; 
how  many  worshiped  their  business,  skill  and 
riches  more  than  their  Creator  and  Redeemer  ! 
And  now  He  was  sending  his  Reaper,  and  over 
the  open  graves  crying,  in  tones  of  thunder : 
' '  All  flesh  is  grass,  and  all  the  goodliness  thereof 
is  as  the  flower  of  the  field  ;  it  is  true,  but  the 
truth  is  bitter,  and  my  soul  is  grieved  for  these 
my  children." 

The  seamstress  had  reached  the  foot  of  Birch 
Avenue,  where  stood  the  pretty  little  dwelling 
in  the  sunlight,  only  a  light  cloud  curling  forth 
from  its  chimney.  Then  the  fire  still  burns 
on  the  bright  hearth ;  the  canary  still  carols, 
although  the  heat  has  subdued  his  voice ;  and 
beneath  the  apple-tree  it  is  mild  and  sweet  as 
ever.  "Like  the  cooing  of  the  wood  doves  in 
the  midst  of  the  trees,"  thought  Linnie,  as  she 
peered  through  the  lattice. 

Frau  Von  Drambow  sat  on  the  bench  with 
Adolph  in  her  lap,  the  pretty  white  dress  falling 
from  his  fat,  bare  shoulders.  He  was  stroking 
his  mamma's  wan  cheeks  lovingly,  while  she 
crooned,  "There,  there,  there!"  with  a  faint 
smile.  It  was  only  the  shadow  of  her  old,  merry 
laugh  that  had  played  amid  the  many  flitting 
dimples ;  but  still  it  was  a  smile. 

' '  I  can  not  tell  her ;  I  can  not  mar  this  pleas- 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  219 

ant  hour;"  and  the  seamstress  would  pass  by 
unnoticed. 

But  Frau  Von  Drambow  had  glimpsed  her. 
"Come  in  Linnie,  come  in!"  she  cried. 

"I  can  not.  I  have  been  among  the  sick, 
and  must  not  come  near  Adolph." 

Frau  Von  Drambow  stepped  backward,  and 
pressed  her  child  more  closely  to  her  bosom  ;  but 
she  added:  "I  have  good  news  from  my  hus- 
band, Linnie;  the  ninety-first  Psalm  is  still  true." 

' '  If  God  will !  Ah  !  dear,  dear,  lovely  woman, 
if  God  will !"  thought  the  seamstress,  hurrying  on. 

"It  is  true,"  continued  the  young  mother, 
while  a  shudder  passed  through  her  being. 
"Every  hour  may  bring  something  different," 
and  the  smile  became  like  a  flickering  flame, 
which  one  protects  with  the  hand. 

Linnie  was  now  at  Griinhof.  Old  Hechter- 
ling  stood  in  the  midst  of  his  rose-bushes,  cut- 
ting off  one  after  another  with  a  huge  knife.  His 
coarse,  burly  form  seemed  out  of  place  amid 
these  delicate  blossoms,  which  he  carefully  laid 
in  straight  rows  in  a  flat  basket. 

When  he  observed  her  he  nodded  craftily  :  "It 
is  a  real  stroke  of  luck  that  I  have  so  many  white 
roses  out  to-day,"  he  gloated;  "everybody 
wants  white  roses,  and  the  price  has  advanced 
fourfold.  We  never  had  that  before." 

"Then  you  rejoice  over  the  death  of  so  many 


220  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

young  people,"   exclaimed  Linnie,   indignantly; 
for  she  was  always  on  the  war-path  with  him. 

"It's  all  one  to  me,"  he  retorted,  with  a 
malicious  smile. 

Little  Dorothy  came  running  forward,  and 
sprang  toward  the  seamstress,  whose  knees  she 
hugged  with  both  arms:  "Aunt  Linnie,  Aunt 
Linnie!" 

"Get  out  of  the  way,"  snarled  the  grandfather. 
She  looked  up  with  a  shy,  timid  glance ;  then  hid 
her  face  in  Linnie's  dress.  The  latter  took  her 
hand,  and  led  her  toward  the  house. 

"How  is  your  papa?" 

"He  has  had  the  cholera  too;  but  he  is 
better,  although  very  weak.  Do  you  think  we 
shall  soon  go  back  to  Berlin,  Aunt  Linnie?" 

"Had  the  cholera!  and  survived  it!"  she 
said  to  herself.  "Then  I  must  hasten  to  see  him  ;' 
poor,  poor,  dear  John  !" 

"Shall  we  soon  go  back  to  Berlin?" 

"Don't  you  like  it  here,  even  a  little?" 
Linnie  drew  the  child  somewhat  impatiently  to 
her  side. 

Dorothy  shook  her  head  very  positively,  with  : 
"Here  nobody  can  say  anything  but  ugh!"  ar- 
gued the  little  one,  in  a  loud  tone;  but  she  did 
not  proceed  with  her  remonstrance,  and  led  Lin- 
nie to  the  gable-room,  where  her  sick  father 
lay.  It  was  a  bare  place,  containing  simply  a 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  221 

rickety  bedstead,  a  table,  and  a  chair.  A  few 
garments  hung  on  the  door.  John  was  gazing 
out  of  the  open  window  when  they  entered. 

"O  John,  you  are  sick,  and  it  looks  so  desti- 
tute here!"  lamented  Linnie. 

He  reached  out  his  cold,  moist  hand  feebly : 
"Linnie,  Linnie,  this  is  happiness  indeed,  to  see 
you  once  more.  But  go  away ;  it  is — you  know 
what  I  mean !" 

"No;  I  shall  not  go  away.  I  shall  remain 
with  you  as  long  as  I  have  breath ;"  and  she 
sank  upon  her  knees  beside  the  bed,  embraced 
the  dying  one,  pressed  his  face  between  her 
hands,  and  wept  bitterly. 

"I  prayed  to  God  that  you  might  come;  I 
am  very  weak.  If  little  Dorothy  had  not  looked 
after  me — but  I  can  't  expect  a  bankrupt  man  to 
be  cared  for,"  he  added,  apologetically.  "If  I 
could  be  well  and  begin  business  again,  I  might 
have  better  luck — although  I  doubt  it;  for  I 
have  never  been  fortunate.  I  should  have  left 
nothing  undone  until  I  had  made  you  my 
wife  ;  for  heavy  sins  lie  on  my  heart  in  your  be- 
half, dear  Linnie ;  but  my  parents  were  also 
to  blame.  Yet,  when  one  is  about  to  die,  such 
things  are  not  cherished  against  me ;  are  they, 
Linnie?" 

The  latter  raised  her  head,  upon  which  John's 
hand  rested  caressingly:  "Yes,  yes;  everything 


222  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

will  be  taken  from  you ;  but  when  you  enter  in 
there  will  be  nothing  but  peace  and  glory." 

"If  you  could  persuade  my  old  parents  to 
become  Christians,  that  would  be  very  precious 
to  me,  dear  Linnie." 

"They  have  hardened  their  hearts,  dear  John. 
But  God's  mercy  is  infinite,"  she  replied  softly; 
"trouble  about  nothing  now." 

"It  is  dark  before  my  eyes — " 

"Only  be  patient,  it  will  lead  to  light;  yea, 
from  glory  to  glory." 

"Thank  God,  little  Dorothy  will  be  cared 
for,"  he  whispered. 

"Why  do  you  look  out  towards  the  garden, 
John?" 

"I  should  like  to  see  it  once  more ;  but  I  can 
not  distinguish  anything.  I  hear  the  tree-tops 
rustle  in  the  breeze." 

"The  wind  is  up,  and  we  shall  have  a  storm." 

"Do  you  recollect,  Linnie,  how  beautiful  it 
was  where  the  lilies  bloomed,  and  where  I  cut  the 
rosemary?  Then  you  were  my  betrothed,  and 
we  were  young.  Now  I  am  tired,  and  so  cold. 
Cover  me  closely,  Linnie." 

While  she  endeavored  to  make  him  more 
comfortable,  Frau  Hechterling  entered  the  room 
hurriedly.  She  glanced  at  the  sick  one  impa- 
tiently; then  turned  to  Linnie:  "I  have  been 
looking  for  you  everywhere,  like  a  pin.  The 


THE  SEAJtfSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  223 

work  is  pressing,  and  it  is  n't  right  to  give  me 
only  half  a-day." 

"I  shall  not  sew  to-day." 

"Why  not,  I  'd  like  to  know?" 

"Do  you  not  see  John's  condition?"  she 
whispered;  then  in  louder  tones :  "I  shall  remain 
beside  him  until — " 

"  Until  death  part    us,"  said  John,  faintly. 

The  old  woman  was  enraged.  "Gabbling 
here,  gabbling  there !"  she  exclaimed  in  excite- 
ment. "One  d®esn't  die  with  a  little  cholera- 
morbus.  I  will  bring  you  some  soup,  John." 

He  shook  his  head,  and  she  stood  still  a  mo- 
ment looking  at  him. 

"O  mother,  you  have  not  done  right — "  his 
voice  suddenly  failed,  and  he  was  perfectly  still. 
She  turned  away,  and  shuffled  out  of  the  room, 
slamming  the  door  behind  her. 

Linnie  remained,  sitting  silently  near  the  bed. 
The  poor  man's  mind  began  to  wander,  and  his 
eyes  were  closed. 

What  of  her  earthly  happiness?  As  a  bud 
nipped  by  the  frost  before  it  has  drunk  the 
dews  of  night  or  fed  upon  the  sunlight,  it 
had  been ;  and  now,  now  the  grave  would  open, 
and  her  beloved  would  be  laid  away  from  her 
sight ! 

No  one  may  say  that  Linnie  Bergmann  con- 
tended with  her  Maker;  but  the  pain  was  severe, 


224  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

and  the  bitterness  without  alleviation.  Since 
John's  wife  had  passed  away,  he  had  been  more 
than  ever  in  her  thoughts.  Her  heart  was  still 
so  fresh,  and  her  feelings  had  remained  so  youth- 
ful, that  she  had  hoped,  even  yet,  to  become  his 
bride.  Who  could  blame  her?  But  now  there 
was  nothing  more  to  entreat  for  him,  except  that 
the  last  struggle  might  be  a  brief  one. 

O,  Linnie,  Linnie!  It  hath  pleased  God  to 
fill  up  for  you  no  full  cup  of  wifely  privilege,  and 
it  also  pleaseth  thee !  It  hath  pleased  God  to 
permit  your  beloved  to  grow  and  wither,  and  per- 
ish as  a  water-lily  in  the  swamp,  without  even 
making  his  decree  clear  on  earth.  It  hath  pleased 
God  ;  it  also  pleaseth  thee.  It  hath  pleased  God 
to  call  you  to  his  death-bed  to  comfort  his  de- 
parting soul ;  it  hath  pleased  God,  and,  blessed 
be  his  name,  it  pleaseth  also  thee. 

Hours  passed.  The  old  mother  passed  in 
and  out  unsympathetically,  while  the  old  father 
remained  in  the  garden. 

The  door  opened  softly,  and  Dorothy  entered, 
with  her  great,  asking  eyes  looking  up  into 
Linnie's  face,  as  she  sat  beside  her. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  my  father?" 

"He  is  going  to  God,  Dorothy." 

The  little  face  looked  up  affrighted.  "May 
I  go  with  him,  Aunt  Linnie?" 

' '  Not  yet  my  child.     Listen ;  he  is  speaking. " 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  225 

He  was  delirious,  and  repeated  feebly  : 

"And  lilies  purest  in  their  bloom, 
He  scattered  here  and  there  ; 
A  cypress  wreath  he  intertwined — " 

then,  as  if  in  faintest  echo, — 

"With — true  love's — patient  care!" 

Still  the  merry  old  song — but  should  he  pass 
away  with  that  upon  his  lips  ?  Linnie  knelt  by 
the  bedside,  and  prayed,  in  softest  entreaty : 

"In  the  Christian's  home  in  glory 
There  remains  a  land  of  rest ; 
There  my  Savior's  gone  before  me, 
To  fulfill  my  soul's  request. 

There  is  rest  for  the  weary, 

There  is  rest  for  you  ; 
On  the  other  side  of  Jordan, 
In  the  sweet  fields  of  Eden, 
Where  the  tree  of  life  is  blooming, 

There  is  rest  for  you." 

And  with  these  sweet,  lingering  words,  he  was 
carried  across  the  gulf;  a  ray  of  intelligence 
lighted  the  pale  face,  and  the  spirit  was  freed ! 

"Wake  up  my  father;  he  is  asleep,"  whis- 
pered Dorothy,  breaking  the  silence ;  but  Linnie 
closed  the  dear  eyes,  covered  the  beloved  face ; 
then  sat  by  the  window,  taking  the  child  upon 
her  lap. 

The  garden  was  in  full  splendor.  Fire-lilies 
waved  everywhere  in  gorgeous  array.  She  pressed 


226  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

the  child  to  her  heart  in  agony  of  love  and  woe. 
"John  has  been  taken,  but  he  has  left  me  the 
child  as  an  inheritance."  How  long  she  remained 
there,  she  did  not  know. 

Frau  Hechterling  entered  with:  "You  have 
been  with  him  so  long,  you  might  stay  and  pre- 
pare his  shroud." 

Yes,  she  would  do  this ;  her  needle  would  be 
sanctified  in  such  a  work.  Although  she  made 
haste,  it  was  quite  late  before  John's  angel  gar- 
ment was  finished.  Then  she  arranged  the  room, 
went  into  the  garden  to  gather  rosemary  and 
lilies  for  her  dead,  and  took  a  last  fond  leave  of 
the  dear  face. 

"He  sleeps,  he  sleeps,  Linnie;  do  you  not 
hear  a  choir  of  angel  voices,  singing  confidently 
sweet  and  clear, 

'  He  is  not  dead — he  sleeps  ?' " 

As  she  was  about  to  leave  the  house,  Frau 
Hechterling  carelessly  remarked  :  "In  my  trouble 
I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  some  one  from  St.  James 
Place  came  this  morning  to  inquire  for  you ;  but 
you  were  not  here  then,  and  I  said  you  were 
sewing  somewhere  else." 

Linnie  looked  perplexed,  and  passed  on.  She 
soon  reached  again  Captain  Von  Drambow's 
pretty  residence,  which  now  lay  in  the  moon- 
light, with-smoke-clouds  no  longer  over  it.  The 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  227 

securely  closed  stable  had  a  desolate  appearance, 
with  no  signs  of  life  save  the  tendrils  of  a  grape- 
vine that  trembled  in  the  breath  of  night,  and 
stretched  themselves  in  order  to  reach  the  roof 
and  cling  there. 

"I  wonder  whether  she  knows  that  nearly  all 
the  officers  of  the  king's  Grenadier  Regiment 
have  been  either  wounded  or  killed  ?  God  help 
you,  poor  dove;  it  is  woeful,  woeful!"  she 
murmured. 

The  city  gate  passed,  ten  o'clock  sounded  out 
from  the  castle  church,  and,  quickening  her  steps, 
she  did  not  stop  to  buy  flowers  this  time  for  the 
weary,  waiting  mother.  Flitting  across  St.  James 
Place  like  an  apparition,  Linnie  had  soon  climbed 
the  four  flights  and  entered  the  quiet,  dark  man- 
sard. Cautiously  searching  for  a  match,  she 
lighted  the  lamp.  By  its  dim  light  she  did  not 
observe  that  her  mother's  bed  had  been  turned ; 
and  now  as  the  light  slowly  increased,  she  looked 
around  the  room,  but  immediately  sank  upon  a 
chair  in  utter  amazement.  Her  mother's  bed 
was  there,  faultlessly  made ;  but  it  was  empty — 
wholly  empty !  The  invalid  who  had  been  un- 
able to  leave  it  for  ten  years  was  no  longer  in  her 
accustomed  place.  Linnie  arose,  and  mechan- 
ically raised  the  pillow,  when  the  door  opened, 
and  the  occupant  of  the  basement,  for  whose 
children  she  had  sewed  the  night  before,  entered. 


228  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

Linnie  made  an  effort  to  speak,  but  was  unable 
to  utter  a  word. 

"O,  you  poor,  dear  child!"  said  the  woman; 
"do  not  take  it  so  hard.  I  have  been  watching 
for  you  so  long,  but  missed  you  at  last.  No 
one  is  asked  to-day  whether  he  is  old  or  young ; 
it  is  all  the  same — he  is  taken." 

"Where  is  my  mother?"  asked  Linnie,  dryly. 

"Put  on  mourning  yourself,  Linnie.  My 
children  were  buried  to-day.  It  came  on  her  as 
we  returned  from  the  grave-yard.  My  husband 
ran  over  half  the  city,  and  even  went  to  Griinhof ; 
but  the  Hechterlings  knew  nothing  about  you, 
and  soon  after  noon  she  passed  away.  She  did 
not  suffer  much,  dear  Linnie;  her  death  was 
easy  and  gentle." 

"Where  is  my  mother?"  reiterated  Linnie. 

"You  know  the  kind  of  man  our  landlord  is. 
He  would  have  no  cholera  here,  he  said ;  and  as 
soon  as  she  was  cold  she  was  taken  away  to  the 
city  vault.  I  tell  you,  Linnie,  he  is  terribly 
frightened;  that  is  why  he  acted  so." 

Instead  of  replying,  the  poor  girl  went  to 
the  kitchen,  brought  forth  a  lantern,  seized  some 
matches,  and  started  to  go  out. 

"Linnie,  for  God's  sake,  where  are  you 
going?" 

"I  must  see  my  mother.  I  can  not  let  her 
lie  there  alone." 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  229 

"But,  Linnie,  be  reasonable.  She  is  really 
dead.  I  closed  her  eyes  myself,  and  put  the 
room  in  order." 

With  superhuman  force  Linnie  pushed  the 
well-meaning  woman  aside,  and  hurried  down 
the  stairs.  Passing  quickly  through  the  lonely 
city  streets,  she  was  in  due  time  before  the 
watchman's  little  house  at  the  entrance  of  the 
city  cemetery.  "The  seamstress  of  Stettin"  was 
well  known  to  this  man  ;  but  as  she  stepped  to 
the  door  she  found  it  closed.  A  light  was  burn- 
ing dimly  within,  whose  glimmer  fell  through 
the  simply  guarded  shutters,  and  played  in 
l°ng>  golden  streaks  on  the  dark,  high  shrub- 
bery without. 

She  knocked  on  the  door,  and  then  on  the 
shutters.  The  window  was  quietly  opened,  and 
a  woman's  head  in  a  night  cap  made  its  appearance. 

"Don't  come  after  my  husband!"  she  ex- 
claimed, discouragingly,  holding  up  a  lamp  ;  "he 
can  not  go  out  again  to-night.  He  is  in  bed,  and 
I  will  not  let  him  go  anywhere.  Working  by 
night  and  day  no  one  can  endure.  We  have 
sent  for  help.  Who  are  you,  and  what  do 
you  want?" 

"I  am  Linnie  Bergmann." 

"The  Linnie?  O,  that  is  very  different! 
And  you  come  to  see  your  mother?  for  they  told 
us  you  were  not  at  home  when  it  happened." 


330  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

The  window  was  hastily  closed,  and  Linnie 
heard  the  door-bolt  drawn.  Thus  her  simple 
name  was  a  talisman,  even  at  the  threshold  of 
the  dead;  for  "the  seamstress  of  Stettin"  had 
always  been  a  welcome  visitor  among  the  poor 
and  suffering  of  the  city. 

"Linnie,"  began  Frau  Neumann,  "your 
mother  is  well  cared  for,  and  I  do  not  reproach 
you  for  wishing  to  see  her;  but  it  is  late,  and 
there  is  danger  of  taking  cold. " 

The  sexton's  wife  now  led  the  way  through  a 
dense  group  of  firs,  to  the  receiving  vault,  which 
opened  creakingly  on  its  rusty  hinges  as  the  two 
entered.  It  was  a  cold,  gloomy  place,  lighted 
only  by  the  weird  rays  of  the  lantern  which 
Linnie  carried. 

Frau  Neumann  endeavored  to  console  the 
afflicted  daughter:  "Remember,  Linnie,  she  was 
an  old  woman,  and  always  complaining.  She 
gave  you  much  trouble,  and  did  not  linger  or 
suffer  long  at  the  last." 

"Ah!"  thought  Linnie,  "she  was  my  mother, 
and  all  I  had  left  in  the  world !" 

They  reached  the  bier  upon  which  the  dead 
lay.  There  was  nothing  repulsive  or  terrifying 
in  the  sight.  A  peaceful  calm  rested  upon  the 
still  pale  image,  as  if  it  had  not  tasted  any  bit- 
terness in  the  struggle. 

Linnie  fell  upon  her  knees,  and  gave  way  to 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  23! 

her  grief.  Her  eyes  had  been  unable  to  shed 
tears  during  the  previous  sad  occurrences  of  the 
day ;  but  now  the  fountain  was  opened,  and  she 
wept  freely. 

"I  am  now  alone  in  the  world.  The  little 
mansard  has  lost  its  dearest  and  best  attraction. 
God's  lightning  has  crushed  the  poor  seamstress 
to  the  earth.  Why  does  he  visit  such  terrible 
vengeance  upon  me  ?  Why  was  I  not  permitted 
to  close  my  dear  mother's  eyes,  or  breathe  for 
her  a  parting  prayer?" 

Frau  Neumann  finally  entreated:  "Linnie, 
come  now ;  we  must  leave  this  place.  It  is 
wrong  for  us  to  remain  here.  My  husband  is 
sick,  and  we  are  not  safe." 

"The  seamstress  of  Stettin,"  who  had  calmed 
and  comforted  so  many  in  their  hours  of  be- 
reavement, felt  that  now  God  alone  was  her 
support.  With  supreme  effort,  relying  upon  her 
Heavenly  Father's  aid,  she  looked  upon  the  dear 
sleeper  for  the  last  time ;  then  turned  away  with 
her  companion. 

As  they  walked  amid  the  dark  fir  shadows,  a 
breath  of  air  stirred  their  branches  from  the 
north,  and  refreshed  the  burning  eyes  and  cheeks 
of  the  mourner.  She  was  indeed  weary;  and 
begging  the  sexton's  wife  to  go  home,  she  sat 
down  to  rest  and  meditate.  The  sky  had  dark- 
ened, and  clouds  were  hurrying  over  the  moon's 


232  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

face.  All  around  her  lay  the  departed  ones. 
Rich  and  poor,  distinguished  and  lowly, — Linnie 
had  known  many  of  them.  Many  life-histories 
recalled  themselves.  How  many  secrets  lay  in  her 
honest,  sympathetic  bosom  !  Ah  !  we  are  soon 
forgotten !  The  world  laughs  and  dances  over 
our  graves ;  it  uses  our  hardly  earned  wealth, 
clothes  itself  in  our  garments ;  it  afflicts  itself 
and  whispers  lamentations;  but  no  one  removes 
the  withered  wreaths  from  the  place  where 
we  lie ! 

It  was  now  after  midnight,  and  from  the  dis- 
tant church-tower  sounded  half-past  one.  She 
roused  herself  from  this  apathy  of  despair ;  but 
evil  spirits  tormented  her  soul,  and  seemed  now 
to  fill  this  sacred  spot  with  their  suggestions : 

"There  is  no  God,  no  God  of  love  and  mercy. 
These  who  lie  here  beneath  the  sod  attest  this, 
as  well  as  they  who  still  breathe  ;"  and  yet  further 
they  whispered  mockingly  in  her  ears:  "Have 
you  not  tried  to  do  your  duty,  and  served  Him 
with  holy  fear  and  trembling?  What  gain  has 
it  been  to  you  ?  Is  the  empty  mansard  the  poor 
seamstress's  reward  for  her  fidelity?  Look  at 
your  declining  years,  and  know  the  sufferings 
still  in  store  for  you  !  Spared  only  to  crumble 
to  dust  as  these  before  you.  Have  you  ever  seen 
any  of  them  arise  ?  Never,  never !  With  what 
body  do  they  come?" 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  233 

Linnie  scarcely  knew  whether  these  evil  sug- 
gestions sprang  from  without  or  from  her  own 
inner  self.  She  perceived  only  the  wounds  they 
made  ;  and  while  she  suffered  beneath  the  gloomy 
doubts,  she  lifted  her  soul  in  pra)'er  against 
them.  Wholly  absorbed  in  the  contemplation, 
she  had  not  observed  her  surroundings  ;  but  now, 
growing  calmer,  her  eyes  rested  upon  a  tablet 
near.  It  represented  a  large  open  Bible.  The 
page  was  encircled  with  a  carved  ivy-leaf,  within 
which,  in  golden  letters,  she  read:  Isaiah  Ixv,  17. 
The  clouds  no  longer  obscured  the  moon.  The 
trees  with  their  quivering  foliage,  and  the  silent 
resting-places,  stood  out  in  all  their  splendor  and 
clearness. 

Linnie  knew  the  Scriptural  reference  perfectly, 
and  she  repeated  softly:  "For,  behold,  I  create 
new  heavens  and  a  new  earth :  and  the  former  shall 
not  be  remembered,  nor  come  into  mind."  She 
needed  nothing  further.  These  words  turn  the 
golden  age  of  the  world's  history,  not  to  its  be- 
ginning, but  to  its  end,  and  they  are  the  hope 
and  trust  of  all  who  sorrow  in  faith. 

Let  the  specters  of  unbelief  and  skepticism 
approach  in  troops  ;  like  brainless  larvae,  they  will 
sink  away  into  the  earth  before  the  splendor 
that  beams  from  this  Golden  Text.  Blessed  be 
the  one  who  engraved  it  here  over  the  beloved 
dead !  Who  will  say  it  is  a  small  matter  whether 

20 


234  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

a  cross  or  a  word  of  faith  shall  stand  upon 
our  tombs  ? 

The  first  shimmering  of  rosy  dawn  has  now 
peered  through  the  twilight  of  the  rising  day. 
The  dew  lay  heavy  and  clear  upon  the  grass  and 
flowers.  Suddenly  the  light  shone  from  the 
east,  and  songs  of  birds  broke  the  early  morn- 
ing's stillness.  The  seamstress  arose  with  assur- 
ance, and  returned  to  the  city.  Her  steps  were 
feeble,  and  her  whole  bearing  had  the  appear- 
ance of  exhaustion.  When  she  reached  the  little 
mansard,  a  pure,  fresh  air  from  the  open  window 
greeted  her.  Without  closing  it,  she  drew  the 
curtains,  and  lying  down,  was  overcome  by  deep 
slumber. 

She  was  at  first  very  pale ;  but  it  was  not 
long  before  a  hectic  flush  burned  upon  her  cheeks. 
The  excitement  and  severe  affliction  of  the  day 
and  night  previous  had  developed  a  fever.  The 
friendly  swallows  sat  chattering  and  quarreling 
for  their  missing  breakfast,  on  the  window-sill. 
One  of  the  bravest  lifted  a  corner  of  the  curtain, 
head  on  one  side,  and  peeped  in  the  room's  twi- 
light. After  listening  a  few  moments,  he  raised 
his  wings  and  flew  off.  It  was  so  still  there,  he 
thought  no  one  could  be  at  home.  But  he  was 
mistaken;  very  solitary,  and  with  lapsing  con- 
sciousness, lay  on  her  bed  "the  seamstress  of 
Stettin"  in  her  mansard. 


^%%%n-M%:irii^^^ 

J^.      Sf,       Sf,      S^      ^.    -f.       S^.      f.      T.       f.       ~T"      f.      -T*.      -1*.      f.      -T*      1*      .7^ 


VIII. 

"Even  as  a  nurse,  whose  child's  imperfect  pace 
Can  hardly  lead  his  foot  from  place  to  place; 
Leaves  her  fond  kissing,  sets  him  down  to  go, 
Nor  does  uphold  him  for  a  step  or  two ; 
Put  when  she  finds  that  he  begins  to  fall, 
She  holds  him  up  and  kisses  him  withal : 
So  God  from  man  sometimes  withdraws  his  hand 
Awhile,  to  teach  his  infant  faith  to  stand ; 
But  when  he  sees  his  feeble  strength  begin 
To  fail,  he  gently  takes  him  up  again." 

— H.  VAUGHAN. 

utterly  at  a  loss  what  to  do ;  go  to  her ; 
see  if  you  understand  it  any  better.     Weak 

tas  she  is  from  her  recent  illness,  she  re- 
fuses to  eat,  and  when  I  talk  to  her,  she 
only  turns  away  her   head.     I   know  it, 
brother,    she    is    swallowing    her    tears,    and   of 
course  not  of  sheer  willfulness.     I  speak  to  you 
about   it,  that  you  shall  not  blame  me   if  any- 
thing happen  to  her." 

Fraulein  Mylitta  Von'Kleewitz  uttered  this 
long  complaint,  not  without  a  certain  percepti- 
ble displeasure.  "What  a  misery  this  rearing 

235 


236  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

of  children  is!"  she  added  to  herself,  as  she  sank 
into  an  easy-chair,  and  folded  her  hands  in  her 
lap;  "but  one  like  this  is  enough  to  hurry  me 
to  my  grave." 

General  Von  Geldern  sat  before  his  desk  in 
the  study.  He  looked  up  from  the  pile  of  pa- 
pers awaiting  his  signature,  and  replied:  "I  will 
see  to  Asta  immediately.  I  have  so  much  to 
do  I  scarcely  know  where  to  begin ;  but  this 
issue,  this  issue!  God  is  with  Prussia,  and  we 
have  made  a  good  beginning. "  He  stroked  his 
white  beard  and  sighed :  ' '  This  is  something 
unusual  with  Asta.  I  wish  my  wife  were  here." 

There  must  have  been  a  shadow  of  dread  in 
the  approaching  interview ;  for  he  left  the  study 
with  lingering  steps,  leaving  his  sister-in-law 
behind. 

"As  if  I  could  not  be  there!"  she  grumbled, 
drawing  forth  her  handkerchief.  "Ingratitude  is 
the  world's  reward."  She  arose  and  stood  before 
the  mirror.  ' '  A  wonderfully  well-preserved  exte- 
rior," she  commented;  "but  when  one  never 
goes  out,  it  is  difficult  to  obtain  appreciation. 
This  war  and  the  horrible  contagion  do  not  incite 
many  pleasant  thoughts.  How  I  suffer  with 
ennui!  I  must  send  Frederick  for  a  few  things 
from  the  shops  ;  if  one  only  looks  over  the  sam- 
ples, and  buys  a  trifle  here  and  there,  it  lends  a 
little  excitement." 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  237 

Her  poor  head  was  like  an  empty  nut,  in 
which  a  restless  worm  gnaws  and  writhes.  Here 
was  an  immortal  soul  in  the  midst  of  its  un- 
satiated  longings.  Seed-time  was  passed,  but  no 
harvest  had  been  garnered ;  and  now  the  winter 
of  old  age  was  at  hand  with  its  thirst  and  famine. 

The  general  had  entered  Asia's  boudoir, 
where  she  reclined  upon  a  luxurious  lounge  in  a 
state  of  nervous  restlessness.  Her  fine  handker- 
chief was  wrinkled  in  her  fingers,  her  cheeks 
pale,  her  eyelids  red,  and  the  pretty  lips  com- 
pressed with  an  expression  of  the  bitterest  woe. 

"Now,  Asta,  what  is  the  matter?  Aunt 
Mylitta  complains  about  you,  and  I  really  be- 
lieve—" 

She  looked  up  from  her  large  eyes  with  an 
effort  to  maintain  an  appearance  of  child-like 
trust;  but  her  head  dropped  upon  the  arm  of 
the  sofa,  and  she  burst  into  violent  sobbing. 
With  this  movement  a  newspaper  fell  from  her 
side,  which  her  father  picked  up.  His  glance 
rested  upon  a  paragraph  wet  with  tears — in  fact, 
thoroughly  drenched  by  them — and  as  ,he  read 
the  following  affecting  lines,  his  forehead  wrinkled 
in  serious  condemnation:  "Our  wounded  are  in 
a  most  appalling  condition.  Having  been  more 
than  twenty- four  hours  without  attention,  they 
die  from  loss  of  blood,  or  are  murdered  and 
robbed  by  the  hyenas  of  the  battle-field.  Swarms 


238  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

of  vultures  are  there,  ready  to  begin  their  loath- 
some work.  In  vain  the  parched  lips  cry  for  a 
drop  of  water ;  and  when  one  reflects  upon  the 
vast  sums  of  money  appropriated  for  the  sanitary 
department  of  the  army,  what  sacrifices  our  citi- 
zens are  making  in  its  contribution,  one  must  ar- 
rive at  the  conviction —  .  .  .  We  regret  to 
announce  that  among  the  list  of  the  severely 
wounded  is  the  well-known  name  of  Captain 
Elmbach,  of  the  king's  Grenadier  Regiment.  We 
have  also  learned  that  his  father,  the  eminent 
councilor,  has  set  out  for  the  seat  of  war." 

"It  is  a  lie,  an  infamous  lie!"  thundered  the 
general,  throwing  down  the  paper,  impatiently. 
"How  can  an  intelligent  person — " 

But  his  outburst  was  restrained  by  Asta,  who 
wrung  her  hands,  violently  screaming:  "O,  his 
handsome  eyes,  his  beautiful  eyes,  to  be  plucked 
by  the  dreadful  crows !  Have  pity  on  me, 
father!" 

The  general  stepped  back  in  astonishment. 
"Whom  do  you  mean,  Asta?" 

"Father,  I  shall  die  with  him;  his  life  and 
mine  are  one.  I  love  him,  father.  Ever  since 
he  saved  me  from  death  I  have  been  his !  O, 
that  the  lake  had  kept  us  both !  Then  we  never 
should  have  been  separated!" 

"Ah!— so!— is  that  it?  Incredible!  That 
you  should  so  far  forget  yourself — you — me —  ! 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  239 

Have  you  not  called  yourself  my  lion-daughter, 
who  shared  all  my  antipathies?" 

But  she  did  not  heed  him. 

"His  unbound  wounds,"  she  continued,  in 
agonizing  tones;  "his  parched  lips;  and  I  am 
here,  and  would  nurse  and — "  She  sprang  up 
with  an  unnatural  gleam  in  her  eyes:  "I  must 
go  to  him,  and  if  he  be  dead  I  will  protect  his 
splendid  form  against  those  monsters!" 

The  general  crossed  over  to  the  opposite  side 
of  the  room,  and  rang  the  bell  sharply.  Then 
turned,  and  took  the  hysterical  girl  in  his  arms 
Strong  father-arms  they  were!  Fortunate,  in- 
deed, she  who  finds  them  a  safeguard  and  refuge 
when  life's  storms  rage  over  her  head ! 

"She  is  no  longer,  now,  a  child,"  he  thought, 
"trembling  and  swaying  beneath  the  power  of 
love  and  pain,  as  a  reed  in  the  rushing  flood." 
He  soothed  her.  "Only  be  calm  and  reason- 
able, my  child.  This  news  is  highly  colored  by 
party  hate — regardless  enough  that  it  would  be 
read  by  relatives  of  the  wounded,  for  the  most 
part  in  the  city."  * 

Frederick  answered  the  bell. 

' '  Linnie  must  come, "  commanded  the  general. 
"Search  for  her  over  the  entire  city,  and  bring 
her  shere.  If  Elmbach  is  really  wounded,"  he 
said  firmly — "and  the  latest  news  from  the  losses 
at  Gitschin  have  not  yet  been  received — he  can 


240  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

be  brought  home;  and  as  to  the  love" — clearing 
his  throat — "that  is  imaginary;  the  romance  of 
your  adventure  has  bewitched  you.  He  was  not 
so  attractive  to  you  before  that  event." 

"  My  life  for  his  !"  she  pursued  hoarsely. 

"It  is  not  very  pleasant  to  manage  a  grown- 
up daughter,"  thought  the  father;  but  he  replied 
with  kindly  consideration:  "I  pity  any  woman 
who  does  not  know  how  to  submit  to  the  provi- 
dences of  Almighty  God.  On  strong  natures  he 
lays  strong  suffering.  You  are  no  feeble  one,  Asta. 
Be  discreet,  and  conquer  this  nervous  hysteria." 

He  was  interrupted  by  the  chatter  of  one  of 
the  shoemaker's  children,  whose  wife  was  now 
announced. 

"We  can  see  no  one,"  he  said  peremptorily. 

"She  has  just  received  a  letter  from  her  hus- 
band," ventured  the  maid.  "She  says  it  is  from 
Gitschin." 

"Then  let  her  enter."  He  was  only  too  glad 
to  give  Asta's  thoughts  a  new  direction,  and 
therefore  almost  shoved  Frau  Schultz  forcibly 
into  her  presence. 

She  was  tall,  thin,  and  wasted  from  years  of 
privation,  mother-care,  and  work.  She  wore  an 
old  black  camelot  dress,  and  a  blue  figured  calico 
apron.  Her  face  had  grown  wrinkled  before  its 
time ;  but  now  it  sparkled  with  sunshine  from 
the  joy  that  streamed  therefrom. 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  241 

"I  must  carry  it  to  her  ladyship  myself,"  she 
exclaimed,  producing  it  from  a  coarse  yellow 
paper  cover. 

Asta  tried  to  read  it,  but  the  letters  swam 
before  her  eyes.  The  general  took  it  from  her. 
"Sit  down,"  he  said  to  the  woman,  as  Asta 
again  withdrew  to  the  corner  of  the  so£a. 

Frau  Scliultz  timidly  accepted  the  invita- 
tion by  seating  herself  upon  the  chair's  ex- 
treme edge. 

Holding  the  letter  at  arm's-length — for  he  was 
without  his  eye-glasses — he  read  with  sonorous 
voice,  and,  toward  the  end  of  it,  with  ever  in- 
creasing emotion: 

"GiTSCHiN,  July  30,  1866. 

"  DEAREST  WIFE, — I  must  tell  you  that  I  am  a  cor- 
poral. It  was  on  account  of  a  great  day,  as  you  shall 
hear.  Our  captain  ['Ho,  ho!  Asta,  you  see  what  kind  of 
news  you  had ;  for  mark  well  this  was  the  day  after  Git- 
schin ']  was  beside  me — " 

Springing  up,  Asta's  expression  of  deepest 
solicitude  changed  to  one  of  sweetest  joy,  and 
she  listened  now  with  head  forward,  and  pale 
lips  half-parted. 

" — was  just  beside  me,"  repeated  the  reader,  "and  told 
me  that  now  I  was  an  officer.  Ah  !  my  dearest  wife,  what 
is  that  to  a  man  ? — something  dreadful !  I  write  on  a  box, 
and  I  can  not  rest  upon  it  lest  the  coffee-pot  fall  over  ;  and 
that  would  be  bad.  Also,  we  have  whipped  the  Austrians, 
and  on  that  account  every  bone  in  my  body  aches. 
'Schultz,'  said  my  captain,  laying  his  hand  on  my  shoul- 

21 


24*  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

der,  '  you  have  been  very  useful  to  me,  and  acted  like  a 
hero.  The  colonel  has  made  you  a  corporal,  and  you  are 
sure  of  a  military  title.'  Tell  Carl  and  Gustave  and  little 
Fritz  that  I  am  an  officer.  Ah!  dearest  wife,  what  is  that 
to  a  man  ?  Our  captain  did  it  all  alone,  and  the  cloak  I 
took  from  him  was  in  rags.  Yes ;  it  cost  much  blood,  and 
many  tears  will  be  shed  in  Stettin ;  for  nearly  all  our 
officers  are  dead  or  wounded,  only  our  captain  and  Cap- 
tain Von  Drambow  of  the  Eighth  are  perfectly  sound.  The 
latter  was  very  brave ;  but  as  he  was  not  the  senior  officer 
he  did  not  have  command.  Our  captain  was  always  to 
the  front,  and  you  do  not  know  what  that  is  to  a  man  ! 
We  marched  through  the  fir-forest  where  it  was  beautiful 
and  still,  at  vesper  time ;  and  I  thought  of  you  all.  Then 
suddenly  our  way  was  along  mountains  everywhere,  so 
steep  it  seemed  the  world  must  go  under.  '  Schultz,'  I 
said  to  myself,  'never  mind  that  now;  only  do  your  duty 
and  God  will  provide.'  I  only  knew  then  that  we  were  in 
a  deep  forest,  and  that  our  captain  was  frantically  hurry- 
ing us  forward,  lest  we  should  n't  get  through  first.  He 
kept  shouting :  '  Let  no  one  be  behind ;'  and  he  was  like 
a  storm — here,  there,  and  everywhere.  Yes,  he  is  very 
frightful, — that '  s  the  kind  of  a  man  he  is !  His  eyes 
snapped  like  coals  of  fire,  and  blood  ran  down  his 
face  from  being  scratched  on  the  trees,  and  the  branches 
also  tore  great  holes  in  our  uniforms. 

"  Since  that  time  we  have  fought  our  way  out  of  the  for- 
est and  passed  through  a  village  named  Unterlochow  ;  then 
on  the  heights,  where  our  major  was  shot  from  his  horse. 
The  shots  flew  thick  and  fast,  and  we  were  almost  scattered 
through  fright,  but  Captain  Elmbach  brought  us  together, 
while  the  balls  snapped  against  him  as  though  he  were 
bronze.  Then  we  drove  back  a  regiment  of  Hungarian 
hussars ;  then  a  battalion  of  infantry ;  and  when  we  could 
fight  no  longer,  the  captain  brought  us  to  a  place  of  cover, 
in  order  to  regain  our  senses.  Every  one  says  he  will  be 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  243 

a  major,  and  receive  high  orders.  I  and  he  were  always 
together ;  we  both  did  it,  and  before  I  would  have  left 
him,  they  would  have  been  obliged  to  tear  me  in  pieces. 
That  is  what  a  true  soldier  ought  to  be.  Now  when  he 
goes  by,  all  the  men  shout,  '  Hurrah  !'  " 

The  general  ceased,  and  looked  at  Asta.  She 
had  never  seemed  so  beautiful  to  him.  She  ap- 
peared as  if  baptized  in  love's  electric  splendor. 
The  deep-blue  eyes  glowed  with  beaming  de- 
light, softened  by  tears  that  were  with  effort 
restrained,  and  the  gentle  undulations  of  her 
delicate  white  dress  betrayed  a  throbbing  heart. 
If  this  affection  rested  upon  her  imagination, 
that  mental  trait  of  character  must  be  excep- 
tionally strong. 

This  reflection  was  not  altogether  agreeable 
to  the  father;  but  the  crude  recital  of  the  great 
battle  almost  carried  him  away.  Struggle  as  he 
would  against  admiring  Elmbach  as  a  lover,  he 
could  not  fail  to  recognize  his  superiority  as  a 
soldier.  "A  brave  man,  this  Elmbach,"  he  said, 
dryly,  as  if  speaking  to  himself;  "but  the  letter 
is  not  yet  ended  ;  let  us  see  what  it  says  further. " 
He  resumed : 

"The  city  of  Gitschin  was  taken  that  night,  and  we 
are  now  here  resting.  I  shall  tell  you  of  the  battle  when 
we  meet.  It  was  dreadful  enough,  and  the  city  is  riddled 
with  shot  and  shell,  while  the  churches  are  rilled  with  the 
wounded.  I  pity  the  poor  fellows — Austrians  as  well  as 
Prussians.  Now,  if  they  were  French,  we  could  have  no 


244  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

sucli  feelings ;  for  they  are  sworn  enemies.     I  do  not  like 
war,  although  generally  the  Pomeranians  do. 

"There  is  nothing  wanting  to  our  wounded  ;  but  it  is 
sad  to  see  so  much  suffering.  I  must  tell  you  about  Al- 
fred Winter.  He  is  the  same  old  fellow  for  fun  and  pleas- 
ure. We  walked  around  the  city  this  morning  very  early, 
as  he  said  he  was  not  able  to  sleep,  he  felt  so  much  like  a 
conqueror.  After  standing  at  a  corner  for  some  time,  he 
whispered,  'I  hear  a  cackling.'  'You  only  imagine  that,' 
I  replied;  'and  even  if  you  did,  it  is  nothing  to  us.'  'I 
should  like  to  have  a  chicken,'  he  continued  ;  '  what  am  I 
in  the  city  of  Gitschin  for,  if  not  to  have  a  chicken  ?' 
Then  he  went  behind  a  large  house,  opened  the  stable- 
door,  and  not  a  living  soul  was  to  be  seen  ;  but,  sure 
enough,  there  was  the  cackling  again.  Finally  we  found 
the  hen-coop,  and  the  chickens  began  to  fly  over  our 
heads.  'Here  you  are, just  ready  for  roasting,'  he  cries, 
seizing  as  many  as  he  could.  As  we  came  out  of  the 
place,  to  our  astonishment  a  young  girl  was  sitting  on  tlie 
stable  door-sill,  crying  as  if  her  heart  would  break.  '  O, 
Mister  Great  War  Man,  spare  my  life!'  What  do  you 
think  the  wicked  Winter  did  ?  He  looks  up  to  me,  and 
says  :  '  I  should  like  to  spare  you,  but  this  fellow  with  me  is 
a  terrible  cannibal,  and  spikes  people  on  the  point  of  his 
bayonet.'  Then  he  began  to  sharpen  his  bayonet,  when  I 
spoke  kindly  to  the  girl,  and  quieted  her.  She  had  been 
a  bonne;  but  the  family  had  fled  the  city,  leaving  her  be- 
hind. While  I  was  telling  her  of  you  and  the  children, 
Winter  was  preparing  the  chickens  to  carry  them  back 
with  us.  We  took  the  girl  under  our  care,  and  found  a 
seat  in  a  wagon  which  was  going  toward  her  home.  Win- 
ter made  himself  so  agreeable,  that  if  they  had  been 
longer  together  I  think  they  would  have  been  betrothed. 
She  was  a  pretty  little  girl,  with  rosy  cheeks  and  black 
eyes.  But,  dearest  wife,  this  war  is  a  great  affair.  Who 
ever  would  have  thought  I  should  be  a  corporal  ?  The 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  245 

Lord  God  is  with  us,   and  we  learn  to  pray  to  him  far 

better  here  in  our  distress  than  at  home. 

"But  I  must  now  close,  with  love  to  every  one. 

"A.  SCHULTZ, 

"  1st  Army,    2d  Army  Corps,  3d  Division,   5th  Infantry  Bri- 
gade, 2d  Battalion,  Co.  5." 

"Well,  I  call  that  a  letter,"  said  the  general, 
heartily;  "but  what  we  have  learned  must  be  at 
once  shared  with  our  little  Frau  Von  Drambow. 
She  is  in  a  thousand  anxieties  again." 

He  was  interrupted  by  the  sound  of  the  door- 
bell, and  soon  the  little  woman  referred  to  was 
before  them,  rosy  with  excitement,  holding  out 
an  opened  telegram. 

"My  husband  lives!"  she  exclaimed,  throw- 
ing her  arms  around  Asta's  neck,  and  crying 
for  joy.  Frau  Schultz's  flood-gates  were  also 
opened  through  sympathy.  "Ah!"  she  cried, 
seizing  the  corner  of  her  apron. 
.  Over  Asta's  deeply  agitated  face  also  flowed 
waves.  "Well,"  said  the  general,  "this  is  no 
place  for  me,  with  three  weeping  women ;" 
turning  to  the  visitor  :  "I  beg  your  pardon,  mad- 
ame,  but  this  is  more  than  I  can  endure.  Asta, 
my  child,  do  not  forget  that  your  excitement  is 
the  result  of  illness.  I  trust  it  shall  not  occur 
again;"  and  quickly  as  his  disabled  leg  could 
carry  him  he  withdrew. 

Not  long  after,  Frau  Schultz  was  on  her  way 
home,  holding  firmly  in  a  concealed  pocket  sub- 


246  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

stantial  proofs  of  appreciation  from  the  young 
women  for  the  welcome  war  news. 

But  Asta  found  it  very  sweet  and  comforting 
to  share  her  heart's  secret  with  her  dearest  friend. 
As  a  song  in  light  minor  tones,  their  voices 
were  heard  in  the  room.  '  Both  felt  that  the 
battle  of  Gitschin  would  not  be  the  final  one, 
and  that  results  might  be  very  different  in  the 
future.  As  yet  the  structure  of  their  happiness 
was  perfect.  Flowers  still  entwined  its  light  col- 
umns ;  love-thoughts  fluttered  around  them,  and 
from  every  blossom  they  sipped  honey.  But  Asta 
could  not,  in  her  serious  moments,  defend  her- 
self from  the  thought  that  in  its  foundation  her 
happiness  was  only  an  air- castle,  or  a  house  of 
cards  which  a  breath  or  a  touch  would  shatter 
to  pieces ;  and  yet  she  had  grounded  upon  it  her 
future  weal  or  woe. 

"If  we  could  only  see  them  once  more!"  said 
the  little  wife,  finally,  with  a  sigh. 

At  this  juncture  Frederick  entered  with  the 
message  that  the  seamstress  could  not  come,  as  she 
had  been  ill  with  fever  for  several  days.  Asta's 
thoughts  leaped  at  a  bound  from  the  Bohemian 
forests  back  to  Stettin.  There  was  something 
of  her  former  vigor  in  every  movement,  as  she 
hurried  with  her  friend  to  seek  father  and  aunt. 
They  were  both  in  the  dining-room,  where  coffee 
was  being  served. 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  247 

"Linnie  is  sick,  and  I  must  go  to  her  at  once; 
I  fear  no  one  has  looked  after  my  poor,  good 
Linnie,"  she  lamented. 

"And  shall  that  be  your  first  outing?"  said 
Fraulein  Mylitta,  derisively.  "You  will  meet 
with  serious  harm  if  you  are  so  foolish,  Asta." 

"Did  she  consider  her  own  well-being  when 
she  gave  up  everything  to  care  for  us?"  retorted 
Asta,  impatiently. 

"I  have  never  wished  you  to  preside  over 
even  a  duchess,"  remonstrated  the  aunt,  warmly; 
"and  when  it  pertains  to  a  seamstress,  one  sends 
a  maid.  Why  will  you  not  be  satisfied  to  send 
a  nurse?" 

"Because  I  love  her.  I  have  wished  to  go 
out  for  several  days,  but  I  had  no  incentive ;  now 
it  will  be  a  pleasure,  and  I  must  go,  dear  aunt." 

"Well,  your  father  shall  decide." 

The  general  looked  up  earnestly:  "Do  what 
you  can.  Whoever  makes  his  own  health  a  su- 
preme object,  will  never  do  much  good  to  others, 
to  say  nothing  of  anything  great." 

"An  instrument  out  of  tune  will  not  produce 
harmony,"  protested  Fraulein  Mylitta;  "the 
physical  organization  of  a  lady  of  position  needs 
especial  care  at  all  times;  and  after  an  illness, 
certainly  the  most  tender  consideration." 

"I  have  never  regarded  my  old,  crippled 
body  as  either  a  harp  or  a  piano,"  maintained 


248  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

the  general.  "I  look  upon  it  as  an  artful,  re- 
bellious slave  ;  either  I  must  give  it  the  whiplash, 
or  it  lashes  me.  As  to  'ladies  of  position,'  they 
are  creatures  of  flesh  and  blood,  and  it  would  ap- 
pear to  me  more  sensible  for  them  not  to  make 
bondwomen  of  their  bodies.  Thank  God,  Asta 
is  perfectly  hale.  It  will  do  her  no  harm  to 
climb  a  few  flights  to  repay  a  debt  of  gratitude." 

She  approached  him,  and  gently  stroking  his 
white  hair,  kissed  his  forehead.  "  My  dear  papa, 
that  pleases  me  so  much." 

"And  you  please  me  much  better  than  when 

you  loll  in  fantastic  mummery  ;  it  does  n't  become 

you.     Do  your  duty,  my  child ;   take  the  good 

.woman  my  regards,  and  if  you  wish  to  plunder 

my  wine-cellar  in  her  behalf,  I  have  no  objection." 

"You  two  are  a  splendid  pair,"  pursued  Frau- 
lein  Mylitta,  ironically. 

Frau  Von  Drambow  thought  so  sincerely. 
She  joined  the  young  girl,  and  they  soon  after 
knocked  at  Linnie  Bergmann's  humble  door. 

"The  seamstress  of  Stettin"  had  remained 
alone,  as  we  left  her,  for  a  long  time.  It  is  true  the 
woman  from  the  basement  visited  her  occasion- 
ally, to  shake  up  her  pillow  and  replenish  the 
water-pitcher  ;  but  Linnie  was  unable  to  collect 
her  thoughts  sufficiently  to  send  for  other  friends. 
The  time  had  come  when  she  should  experience 
what  it  was  to  be  alone  and  dependent.  No  bird 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  249 

in  its  forsaken  cage,  looking  with  timid  gaze  on  its 
empty  seed  and  water  cups,  could  be  more  help- 
less than  she.  How  often  she  counted  the  clock's 
strokes,  and  how  long  the  hours  seemed  !  To- 
day the  shadows  lengthened  in  the  mansard. 
Before  the  sick  one  stood  the  high  bed  of  her 
departed  mother,  and  the  easy-chair,  with  its  long 
arms.  On  the  window-sill  the  flowers  drooped. 
She  reached  with  pale,  feeble  hands  for  the 
water-pitcher ;  but  vainly  her  parched  lips  longed 
for  a  cooling  draught — it  was  empty.  Attempt- 
ing to  replace  it  on  the  shelf,  it  fell  from  her 
trembling  fingers  to  the  floor  and  was  broken 
in  pieces.  Just  then  came  knocking  at  the  door. 

Without  waiting  for  an  answer,  Frau  Von 
Drambow  and  Asta  entered.  Their  presence 
was  like  the  sun,  overwhelming  the  room  with 
its  golden  flood  of  light.  With  characteristic 
impetuosity  Asta  flew  to  her  bedside:  "  Linnie, 
dear,  best  Linnie,  how  alone  you  are !  Why  did 
you  not  send  for  us?  And  here  is  the  pitcher 
on  the  floor;  she  wanted  water,  and  there  was 
no  one  to  give  it  to  her!"  she  began  to  lament 
in  her  intense  way.  Meanwhile  her  companion 
went  quietly  and  quickly  to  the  lower  story 
for  water. 

"Now  I  must  not  leave  you!"  cried  Asta, 
with  painful  indignation  ;  "it  shall  be  as  though 
you  had  an  adopted  daughter.  See,  Mathilda: 


250  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

she  smiles  a  little  already.  What  kind  of  mon- 
sters are  these  Stettiners,  to  let  their  seamstress 
want  so  miserably!" 

Linnie's  condition  was  improved  from  this 
time  forward.  Asta  returned  home  on  wings  of 
love,  and  soon  came  back  with  her  maid,  who 
carried  lemons,  ice,  a  small  refrigerator,  and 
many  other  useful  and  useless  things.  Frau  Von 
Drambow  was  obliged  to  leave ;  but  it  must 
be  confessed  the  young  girl  served  the  invalid 
well — almost  too  well,  indeed ;  but  her  over- 
zealous  attention,  if  it  somewhat  disturbed  Lin- 
nie's nerves,  refreshed  her  heart  as  a  spring- 
rain  falling  upon  the  thirsty  ground.  The  fever 
suddenly  abated,  and  her  mind  became  quite 
clear. 

"My  dear  Fraulein  Asta,  please  do  me  one 
more  favor,"  she  murmured  feebly;  "the  spar- 
rows haven't  had  a  crumb  all  this  time.  What 
will  they  think  of  me  ?  And  then  the  flowers ; 
and  the  ivy  around — "  Before  she  uttered  the 
name,  came  the  recollection  of  the  past  week's 
bereavements. 

Asta  had  learned  of  the  mother's  death, 
while  Frau  Von  Drambow  had  been  informed  of 
John's  by  the  tenants  of  the  building.  And 
now  she  longed  to  comfort  her  sick  friend ;  to 
speak  to  her  of  the  resurrection,  and  a  blessed 
reunion ;  but  she  could  not  trust  herself.  She 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  251 

bent  over  her  in  a  posture  of  unutterably  sweet 
compassion.  "Linnie,"  she  ventured,  "I  will 
be  your  foster-daughter.  Do  not  weep  over  the 
others;  only  get  well  now." 

Linnie  was  silent.  Her  heart  was  accustomed 
to  grief,  her  will  accustomed  to  restraint,  and 
she  had  learned  self-control  upon  a  sick-bed. 
Her  eyelids  closed  deeply  over  her  tender  brown 
eyes,  as  she  whispered:  "It  hath  pleased  God, 
it  also  pleaseth  me." 

Asta  had  never  heard  these  simple  words  ut- 
tered with  such  eloquence.  She  felt  instinct- 
ively there  was  in  them  the  purest,  most  precious 
gold  for  the  Christian's  every-day  life.  It  was 
easy  to  repeat  lightly,  "As  God  will,"  but  not 
so  easy  to  give  it  sincere  utterance  in  the 
hours  of  distress  and  sorrow.  Ah !  the  star  of 
heathendom,  the  germ  of  the  unbeliever  is,  "As 
/will." 

The  two  remained  quietly  together.  The  dif- 
ference in  social  position  was  wide ;  but  love  had 
built  a  bridge  over  the  gulf,  and  Asta  would  have 
neglected  everything  in  order  that  the  sick  one 
might  be  more  comfortable,  and  feel  assured  no 
one  in  Stettin  was  less  forsaken.  But  Linnie's 
consideration  reminded  her  that  she  would  not 
accept  her  services  during  the  night.  Asta  was 
most  reluctant  to  yield ;  but  after  the  physician's 
visit,  and  assurance  that  it  would  be  unneces- 


252  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

sary,  she  left  her,  promising  to  call  the  fol- 
lowing day. 

When  Linnie  was  again  alone,  and  so  much 
improved,  there  was  a  feeling  of  confidence  and 
thanksgiving  in  her  wounded  heart.  The  stars 
looked  into  the  little  room,  and  kept  her  awake 
a  long  time.  Their  gentle  light  awakened  in  her 
tried  soul  longing  desires  that,  if  possible,  she 
might  not  remain  so  utterly  alone.  Asta's  lov- 
ing words  recurred  to  her  mind  ;  but  Asta  could 
be  no  real  foster-daughter  to  the  humble  seam- 
stress. She  was  too  lovely,  too  beautiful !  She 
might,  like  yonder  heavenly  star,  visit  the  man- 
sard from  time  to  time,  as  an  inhabitant  of  a 
better  world,  and  bring  fruit  and  flowers  to  her, 
but  not  dwell  there — no,  such  a  thought  was 
chimerical. 

But  there  arose  another  little  form  before  her 
mental  horizon — one  with  prematurely  care-worn 
eyes,  very  thin  and  dark ;  a  poor  little  one, 
whose  arms  had  entwined  themselves  around  her 
heart,  whose  timid  smile  was  a  reflection  of 
him  who  had  once  been  her  betrothed, — Doro- 
thy !  How  could  she  make  her  all  her  own  ? 
Even  if  the  grandparents  were  willing,  Linnie 
must  live  by  her  needle,  and  such  a  frail  flower 
would  droop  and  wither,  alone  in  her  enforced 
absences.  Yet  she  continued  to  long  for  her,  and 
to  picture  a  quiet  life  with  the  daughter  of  her 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  253 

dearest  love.  At  midnight  the  lovely  images  of 
hope  and  desire  had  attained  a  splendor  irresisti- 
ble, and  Linnie,  ensnared  by  their  enchantment, 
for  the  first  time  in  her  life  entreated  God  to 
bestow  this  happiness  upon  her.  She  had  not 
believed  it  to  be  right  to  beg  importunately  for 
earthly  good.  To  be  bound  up  with  God,  to 
be  united  through  Christ  her  Redeemer,  to  feel 
upborne  and  sustained  by  Him,  had  always  been 
her  chief  joy.  But  now  there  was  a  secret, 
vague  something  in  her  heart  which  gave  her  the 
presumption  to  ask  for  Dorothy  in  spite  of 
everything. 

In  the  early  morning,  when  her  friends  re- 
turned, she  expressed  a  wish  to  see  Dorothy. 
Asta  at  once  dispatched  the  maid  to  Grlinhof, 
who  returned  with  the  information  that  the  child 
could  not  come,  as  she  had  died  during  the  week 
of  cholera. 

This  time  it  was  Asta  who  wept:  "Linnie, 
dear  Linnie,  remember,  'it  hath  pleased  God,  it 
also  pleaseth  you. ' '  But  it  was  for  Linnie  to 
feel  as  Rachel  mourning  for  her  children,  and 
would  not  be  comforted ;  yet  she  did  not  shed  a 
tear,  and  for  the  time  seemed  perfectly  reconciled. 

"John  needs  her,"  she  thought;  "he  could 
not  live  without  his  child." 

But  there  was  a  relapse  after  this,  and  when 
she  was  able  to  leave  her  sick-bed  the  battle  of 


254  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

Kbniggratz  had  taken  place.  On  account  of 
this  fearful  action,  which  shook  all  Europe,  many 
houses  at  Stettin  were  plunged  into  grief  and 
mourning,  and  many  of  the  inhabitants  were 
clothed  in  sackcloth  and  ashes,  while  over  them 
floated  the  flag  of  victory. 

It  seemed  very  gay  when  Linnie  went  out  for 
the  first  time  with  saddened  eyelids,  to  read  upon 
all  faces  an  expression  of  proud  joy.  She  had 
not  intended  to  sew  today,  having  promised 
Asta  to  reserve  her  strength  for  a  time.  It  was 
pleasant  to  be  out  in  the  warm  sunshine  among 
her  brothers  and  sisters,  as  she  called  the  Stettin 
people,  and  to  feel  that  she  was  not  forgotten. 
As  she  sat  beneath  an  old  linden  on  the  King's 
Square,  she  thought,  "We  are  like  the  leaves 
of  a  tree ;  some  of  them  cluster  together,  and 
some  hang  apart,  but  the  tree  nourishes  them 
all  as  sisters  of  a  large  family.  On  it  they  move 
up  and  down  in  the  sweet,  lively  air;  but  only 
so  long  as  their  stems  are  securely  united  to  the 
origin  of  their  exi-stence  and  preservation  do 
they  really  live.  The  torn  off,  fallen  leaf,  which 
has  been  stripped  by  the  wind,  only  struggles  a 
little  while;  for  being  no  longer  a  part  of  the 
whole,  it  perishes :  so  it  is  when  we  poor  maid- 
ens lose  the  companionship  and  intercourse  of 
human  beings — we  shrivel  and  wither  and  per- 
ish, like  the  dry  leaves." 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  255 

If  Linnie  did  not  have  this  poetic  idea  quite 
as  clearly  formed  in  her  mind  as  here  expressed, 
she  was  deeply  imbued  with  it.  Her  mother's 
death,  instead  of  selfishly  affecting  her  with  the 
feeling  of  solitude,  caused  her  heart  to  go  out 
even  more  warmly  toward  others ;  and  although 
forty  years  of  life  were  passed,  the  spring  of 
love  was  fresh  and  perennial.  Terrors  of  death 
had  encompassed  her;  dark,  bitterly  wicked 
doubts  had  assailed  her ;  but  her  sorrow  had  not 
been  without  hope.  Thoroughly  assured  by  a 
resignation  to  the  Divine  will,  she  went  on  her 
way,  and  her  wan  face  beamed  with  the  beauty 
of  thanksgiving  and  gratitude. 

She  had  now  approached  Birch  Avenue. 
Hark !  there  is  the  bird's  carol  in  the  pretty 
Drambow  dwelling.  Why  does  it  sing  so  cheerily 
when  the  spring-time  has  long  passed?  Every- 
thing must  be  happy  in  the  little  home ;  for  in 
the  gloom  of  earlier  days  the  song  had  been 
hushed.  But  suddenly,  now,  it  ceases,  as  though 
a  cloth  had  been  hastily  thrown  over  the  cage. 
The  house  itself  presents  the  same  lovely  picture 
of  peace,  in  the  midst  of  its  green  setting.  Lin- 
nie's  eyes  rest  upon  the  slender  thread  of  smoke 
which  curls  from  the  chimney ;  how  cold  and 
deserted  it  ascends  into  the  upper  air  ! 

It  is  still  forenoon,  and  no  sensible  house- 
keeper permits  the  fire  to  die  out  when  dinner  is 


256  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

on  the  hearth.  Henrietta  is  standing  before  the 
window.  The  front  door  stands  carelessly  ajar, 
and  from  the  outer  steps  Linnie  hears  little 
Adolph's  fretful  cry.  She  passes  directly  to  his 
room,  and  finds  him  still  in  his  night-dress,  with 
his  uncared-for  locks  in  disorder  over  his  brow. 
Linnie  has  a  fearful  misgiving.  From  the  floor 
comes  a  pitiful  moan  ;  and  there,  lying  as  she  did 
when  the  marching  orders  made  Stettin  tremble, 
was  the  helpless  mother. 

"My  dear,  dear  lady!  Linnie  is  here  to  look 
after  you." 

Frau  Von  Drambow  turned  her  head  without 
a  token  of  recognition. 

"Has  anything  occurred,  my  dear  Frau  Von 
Drambow  ?  Ah !  only  hear  how  poor  little 
Adolph  cries !" 

"He  is  dead,  Linnie!"  the  pale  lips  mur- 
mured. 

And  to  describe  the  magnitude  and  bitterness 
of  such  a  loss,  words  are  powerless.  The  in- 
tense love  that  had  clustered  in  a  full  wreath  of 
myrtle  and  roses,  lay  withered  in  a  skeleton 
of  piercing  thorns.  There  had  been  seven  years 
of  wooing.  She  had  spun  the  years  with  the 
golden  thread  of  patience,  and  netted  it  with  ties 
of  rarest  affection.  Away,  now,  thou  sweet  hap- 
piness— too  bright,  too  beautiful,  too  perfect  for 
earth  !  Ah  !  the  fatherland  won  many  splendid 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  257 

victories  in  a  few  brief  years,  but  the  cost  was 
heavy ;  for  every  drop  of  blood,  a  tear,  and  eyes 
that,  even  to  day,  weep  bitterly  in  silence  ! 

It  was  some  time  before  Linnie  was  able  to 
learn  the  particulars  of  the  affair.  The  greatest 
precautions  had  been  taken  to  prevent  Frau 
Von  Drambow  from  hearing  of  her  husband's 
death.  General  Von  Geldern  had  been  com- 
missioned to  carry  the  sad  tidings.  But  the 
universal  gossip  had  been  swifter  than  he ;  and 
at  the  same  moment  when  Henrietta  had  ter- 
rified her  mistress  by  a  few  dark  hints,  the  wife 
of  a  sergeant  in  Company  8  had  rushed  into  the 
house,  screaming  over  her  own  husband's  death 
and  that  of  Captain  Von  Drambow. 

During  and  since  the  battle  of  Koniggratz  the 
young  woman  had  lived  in  an  agony  of  suspense ; 
for  she  had  failed  to  receive  any  tidings  from  the 
captain.  Now  there  was  the  horrible  certainty. 
The  clock  of  her  happiness  had  run  down  ;  the 
strong,  faithful  husband's  heart  was  still ;  the 
blow  had  almost  destroyed  her  mind,  and  she 
repeated  mechanically  in  pitiful  tones,  "He  is 
dead,  he  is  dead." 

With  the  maid's  assistance,  she  was  put  to 
bed;  and  it  was  a  great  relief  to  Linnie  when 
General  Von  Geldern's  carriage  drove  up  to  the 
door,  and  he  and  Asta  alighted.  How  the  latter 
trembled  as  she  entered  that  unhappy  home, 

22 


258  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

no  longer  bright  with  its  joyful  young  mother 
and  rosy,  crowing  baby  before  the  window ! 
Nothing  hereafter  but  a  shadow  of  its  former 
beauty ! 

"She  has  already  learned  it,"  whispered  the 
seamstress;  "it  is  a  pity — "  modestly  with- 
drawing from  the  sacred  inner  circle  of  these  in- 
timate friends.  She  realized  that  her  much-loved 
lady  was  in  the  best  hands,  and  she  could  be 
of  no  assistance.  Indeed,  true  help  should  only 
come  from  Him  who  has  absolute  power  over 
death.  She  left  the  house,  and  wended  her  way 
to  Grunhof.  In  its  full  noontide  splendor,  the 
earth  blinded  her  eyes  with  its  brilliant  glory. 
On  the  neighboring  hills  the  corn  waved,  ripe  for 
the  reaper's  strong  handiwork. 

"Over  our  seeds  lie  tears,  and  our  harvest  is 
pain,"  she  thought,  as  brave  Captain  Von  Dram- 
bow  appeared  to  her  mind.  Ah!  if  she  could  have 
known  how  much  he  felt  indebted  to  her  quiet 
Christian  influence  in  those  last  days  of  appre- 
hension, and  how  ardently  he  had  clung  to  the 
promises  he  had  heard  her  repeat  in  the  twi- 
light hours,  at  her  work  in  his  pretty  home ! 
But  this  had  not  been  revealed  to  her  sympa- 
thetic, earnest  soul. 

She  had  now  reached  the  Hechterling  man- 
sion, whither  she  had  come  to  hear  more  of 
little  Dorothy's  fate.  The  old  people  sat  on  a 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  259 

bench  before  the  door.  On  the  hot  gravel  walk 
at  their  feet  lay  a  fat  old  cat,  lazily  blinking  at 
the  lively  curl  in  the  end  of  her  tail.  All  there 
had  been  fed  from  the  same  table,  and  were  now 
enjoying  the  sunshine  with  equal  comfort.  The 
old  man  had  his  pipe,  and  the  old  woman's  knit- 
ting-needles clattered  busily. 

Linnie  greeted  them,  and  as  neither  offered 
her  a  seat,  she  remained  standing.  "How  was 
it  that  little  Dorothy  passed  away  so  quickly?" 
she  asked,  earnestly. 

"What  is  that  to  you?  You  are  not  the 
child's  mother, "  replied  the  old  man  in  his  usual 
gruff  style. 

The  old  woman  snapped  her  eyes ;  and  then, 
as  if  recollecting  Linnie's  untiring  services  in  her 
son's  behalf,  added  somewhat  more  friendly: 
"It  was  like  all  the  others — perfectly  well,  and 
dead  in  a  couple  of  hours ;  something  no  doctor 
can  help." 

"And  did  the  dear  child  suffer  much?  or  call 
for  her  mother  or  father?"  ventured  the  visitor, 
with  trembling  lips. 

"Even  if  we  hadn't  done  so  much  for  her, 
and  both  been  with  her  all  the  day  long,  she 
would  have  wailed  and  shrieked  as  people  do," 
asserted  Frau  Hechterling  with  an  expression  of 
vainglory;  "but  we  did  all  we  could,  and  had 
plague  enough  in  it,  so  that  at  last  she  fell  gently 


260  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

asleep, — and  it  is  well  neither  of  us  got  it,"  she 
added,  after  a  pause. 

"What  doctor  did  you  have?"  pursued  Lin- 
nie,  for  the  purpose  of  her  own  satisfaction,  and 
to  know  the  child  had  not  been  neglected. 

"No  one  came  near  us.  A  person  may  die 
and  be  buried  out  here  without  any  one  troubling 
over  it." 

"Pity,"  responded  Linnie ;  "that  is  because 
so  many  physicians  have  gone  with  the  army. 
Have  you  another  servant,  Frau  Hechterling?" 

This  latter  question  was  prompted  by  the 
presence  of  a  girl,  who  stood  before  them  twist- 
ing a  blue  linen  apron  around  her  left  arm  in 
evident  embarrassment 

"The  lady  must  go  to  the  coffee,  for  the  water 
is  getting  wild  over  the  fire." 

"Let  the  coffee  boil  as  long  as  I  order,  if  it 
boils  to  the  grounds,"  snarled  the  mistress; 
"when  I  say  so  long,  so  long  it  is;"  whereupon 
the  terrified  creature  returned  to  her  hiding- 
place.  Turning  to  the  visitor,  the  old  woman 
continued:  "Yes,  I  have  another  oi  them; 
nothing  but  plagues,  all  of  them.  I  let  the  other 
girl  go  after  John's  death,  and  she  did  n't  as 
much  as  say  'thank  you'  to  us.  I  had  to  wait 
on  Dorothy  with  my  own  hands." 

"What  I  still  wish  to  know  is,  whether  I  am 
to  sew  for  you  next  Thursday?" 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  261 

"No,  Linnie,  not  that  time.  You  see  we  are 
going  to  build  a  new  house,  and  begin  the  work 
on  that  day,  and  sewing  here  makes  too  much 
trouble."  She  gave  her  husband  a  glance  of 
self-satisfied  pride,  pointing  at  the  same  time  to 
a  vacant  lot  adjoining  their  garden,  which  was 
piled  up  with  stones  and  sand. 

"Why  do  you  build  this  much-talked-of  house 
now?"  exclaimed  Linnie,  rashly.  "You  always 
contended  it  would  cost  too  much  money." 

"Well,  you  can  't  do  anything  without  money 
in  this  world,"  interjected  the  old  man.  "As 
you  say,  it  will  cost  a  lot  of  money ;  but  then 
there  will  be  money  made  out  of  it.  The  rent 
will  bring  us  in  something.  Money  is  the  chief 
thing.  Mark  this,  Linnie,  if  you  had  had  money, 
you  would  have  quarreled,  too,  with  John.  It  is 
always  so." 

"No,  no,"  maintained  Linnie,  her  cheeks 
suffused  with  blushes,  like  two  damask  roses, 
"that  I  shall  never  concede.  Money  is  not  the 
chief  thing.  Our  Christian  life  on  earth,  our 
blessedness  in  heaven — that  is  the  chief  thing." 

"I  look  out  for  good  eating  and  drinking,  and 
for  a  capital  that  brings  in  a  certain  interest," 
persisted  the  old  butcher.  "How  long  do  you 
want  to  stand  there  and  gabble?'' 

But  the  seamstress  was  not  so  easily  baffled. 
"You  caused  John  many  heavy  hours  by  your 


262  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

want  of  sympathy  and  your  refusal  to  help 
him—" 

The  old  man  took  the  pipe  from  his  mouth, 
and  stared  at  Linnie  full  in  the  face.  The  old 
woman  looked  askance,  and  pushed  the  fat  old 
cat  from  her  lap.  It  is  noteworthy  that  hard- 
hearted people  are  often  to  a  degree  kind  to  ani- 
mals. While  this  wretched  woman's  servants 
were  subjected  to  the  harshest  treatment,  the  cat 
had  a  comfortable  home. 

''That  house  over  yonder,"  said  old  Hech- 
terling,  without  winking  an  eyelash,  ' '  will  be  built 
with  Dorothy's  inheritance — the  very  inherit- 
ance which  her  Grandmother  Kraus  tried  to 
make  so  fast.  She  left  no  relatives  but  her  be- 
loved grandparents,  and  it  has  fallen  to  us.  How 
do  you  like  that,  now?  or  have  you  something 
to  say  against  it?" 

The  seamstress  gave  him  a  look  of  supreme 
contempt.  "Well,  I  shall  go,"  she  replied,  and 
inclining  her  head  in  the  faintest  semblance  of  a 
bow,  she  turned  away.  Frau  Hechterling,  how- 
ever, called  after  her:  "In  a  couple  of  weeks 
you  may  sew  here  again." 

Linnie  had  the  words  upon  her  lips,  "I  shall 
never  enter  your  house  again  ;"  but  she  recalled 
John's  wish.  If  she  were  to  make  an  effort  for 
the  salvation  of  their  souls  she  must  be  patient: 
"Very  well;  I  will  come." 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  263 

Once  more  in  the  little  mansard  she  was  soon 
at  work  upon  small  garments  intended  for  the 
Schultz  children,  the  material  of  which  Asta 
had  provided,  as  she  had  conscientiously  looked 
after  the  interests  of  that  family,  even  more  than 
ever  since  the  Gitschin  letter. 

It  was  almost  dark  when  Frederick  knocked 
at  the  door,  with  the  message  that  General  Von 
Geldern  was  below,  waiting  to  speak  to  her. 
Would  she  be  so  kind  as  to  prepare  for  an  out- 
ing? Hastily  donning  hat  and  mantle,  she  was 
soon  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs.  The  general 
looked  troubled. 

"I  have  just  brought  my  daughter  home, 
almost  forcibly,"  he  said.  "She  must  not  wit- 
ness the  trouble  at  Drambow's.  Only  think, 
Linnie,  the  poor  little  woman  has  neither  eaten 
nor  spoken  a  word  other  than  '  He  is  dead '  all 
day  long ;  and,  what  is  more  distressing,  she 
does  not  shed  a  tear.  If  this  condition  con- 
tinues, the  gravest  result  must  ensue.  You  must 
go  to  her  ;  no  one  understands  such  cases  so  well. 
You  must  present  God's  Word  to  her.  Make 
your  decision  quickly.  Will  you  do  me  this 
favor?  I  loved  Drambow,  and  am  truly  anxious 
about  his  wife."  He  sighed  deeply. 

Linnie  was  not  one  to  hesitate  in  a  matter  of 
duty,  and,  modestly  assenting,  she  expressed 
herself  ready  to  do  what  she  could. 


264  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

"You  are  a  good,  brave  woman.  God  bless 
you  !  How  relieved  Asta  will  be  when  she  knows 
you  are  with  her  friend !" 

Linnie  went  to  Griinhof  for  the  second  time. 
Where  was  the  morning's  freshness?  The  air 
hung  about  her  like  lead.  What  should  she  say  ? 
What  should  she  do  ?  Where  find  a  balm  to  pour 
into  the  gaping,  wounded  heart  of  this  woman? 

Henrietta  met  her  at  the  door  with  weeping 
eyes.  Little  Adolph'had  been  put  to  bed ;  but 
she  had  not  ventured  to  approach  the  distressed 
mother. 

Linnie  entered  the  room  quietly.  The  win- 
dow-curtains were  closely  drawn,  and  in  the  dark- 
ness little  could  be  discerned ;  but  she  heard 
the  monotonous  moaning  which  betrayed  deep 
mental  agony.  Without  disturbance  she  sat  down 
by  the  window. 

"I  am  here,  my  dear  Frau  Von  Drambow, " 
she  began,  calmly.  "You  could  not  remain  all 
night  alone." 

There  was  no  reply.  After  a  long  pause 
came,  "He  is  dead,  he  is  dead!"  which  was 
repeated  monotonously,  evincing  mental  aberra- 
tion, in  an  ecstasy  of  woe. 

Linnie  began  to  sing  softly : 

"  There  is  rest  for  the  weary." 

Between  every  verse  she  paused.  Her  sweet, 
pure,  sympathetic  voice  penetrated  the  apart- 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  265 

ment,  and  gradually  loosened  the  bonds  with 
which  suffering  had  imprisoned  the  captive.  The 
song  was  suddenly  interrupted  by  a  cry,  as  from 
the  depths  of  a  sick  soul.  She  hastened  to  Frau 
Von  Drambow's  side,  and  embracing  her,  list- 
ened to  loud,  bitter  wailing:  "It  has  deceived 
me  ;  the  ninety-first  Psalm  has  deceived  me  !" 

"God  is  in  his  Word,  my  dear  lady.  We 
dare  not  select  solitary  passages  and  make  out  of 
them  prophecies  to  suit  ourselves.  May  I  talk 
to  you  of  the  beautiful  hereafter,  of  the  glorious 
resurrection,  of  eternal  life,  upon  which  all  our 
hopes  are  founded?"  Going  to  the  window  she 
drew  back  the  curtains  with  a  quick  movement ; 
then  returned  to  her  charge.  The  little  wife 
covered  her  face.  The  sun  had  set,  and  the 
western  horizon  was  splendid  with  gold  and 
purple  rays,  which  were  reflected  in  the  apart- 
ment, strewing  on  ceiling  and  furniture  its  gor- 
geous, heavenly  roses. 

"I  know  how  to  sympathize  with  you,  dear 
Frau  Von  Drambow,"  said  Linnie.  "I  have 
lost  all  I  had  in  the  world,  and  I  know  where 
the  flowers  of  hope  and  trust  grow  in  God's 
garden  for  us  both.  May  he  help  me  to  choose 
and  gather  them  aright!  Do  not  turn  away, 
but  listen  while  I  read  from  this  blessed  Word : 

"  'I  am  the  resurrection  and  the  life;  he  that 
believeth  in  me,  though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall 
23 


266  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

he  live :  and  whosoever  liveth  and  believeth  in 
me  shall  never  die. 

' '  '  He  that  heareth  my  word  and  believeth  on 
him  that  sent  me,  hath  everlasting  life,  and  shall 
not  come  into  condemnation  ;  but  is  passed  from 
death  unto  life. 

"  'If  in  this  life  only  we  have  hope  in  Christ, 
we  are  of  all  men  most  miserable.  But  now  is 
Christ  risen  from  the  dead,  and  become  the  first 
fruits  of  them  that  slept. 

' '  '  Blessed  be  the  God  and  Father  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  which  according  to  his  abun- 
dant mercy  hath  begotten  us  again  unto  a  lively 
hope  by  the  resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ  from 
the  dead. 

"  'Neither  can  they  die  any  more:  for  they 
are  equal  to  the  angels,  and  are  the  children  of 
God,  being  the  children  of  the  resurrection. 

' '  '  Blessed  are  the  dead  which  die  in  the  Lord 
from  henceforth  :  Yea,  saith  the  Spirit,  that  they 
may  rest  from  their  labors ;  and  their  works  do 
follow  them.' 

"Now  let  me  read  also  this  to  you,  dear 
friend : 

"'There  are  also  celestial  bodies,  and  bodies 
terrestrial:  but  the  glory  of  the  celestial  is  one, 
and  the  glory  of  the  terrestrial  is  another.  There 
is  one  glory  of  the  sun  and  another  glory  of  the 
moon,  and  another  glory  of  the  stars ;  for  one 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  267 

star  differeth  from  another  star  in  glory.  So 
also  is  the  resurrection  of  the  dead.  It  is  sown 
in  corruption,  it  is  raised  in  incorruption :  it  is 
sown  in  dishonor,  it  is  raised  in  glory :  it  is 
sown  in  weakness,  it  is  raised  in  power :  .  .  . 

"  'In  a  moment,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye, 
at  the  last  trump :  for  the  trumpet  shall  sound, 
and  the  dead  shall  be  raised  incorruptible,  and 
we  shall  be  changed. 

"'O  death,  where  is  thy  sting?  O  grave, 
where  is  thy  victory?  The  sting  of  death  is 
sin ;  and  the  strength  of  sin  is  the  law.  But 
thanks  be  to  God,  which  giveth  us  the  victory 
through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.' ' 

What  living  heart  could  resist  these  sacred 
words,  which  came  from  the  heights  like  a  paean 
of  triumph  upon  the  ear? 

Frau  Von  Drambow  opened  her  eyes,  and 
extended  both  arms  to  meet  those  of  her  com- 
forter. She  could  now  endure  the  sunset's  glow. 
"Sing  that  song  to  the  end." 

Linnie  began  again : 

"In  the  Christian's  home  in  glory 
There  remains  a  land  of  rest." 

Before  she  had  finished  it,  her  listener  was 
weeping  bitterly,  and  was  saved ! 

The  seamstress  remained  all  night;  and  when 
she  heard  the  troubled  little  wife  and  mother  sob 


268  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

and  moan  from  time  to  time,  she  was  ever  ready 
to  utter  sweet,  consoling  words  of  sacred  promise. 
The  following  morning,  when  the  general  and 
Asta  called,  Frau  Von  Drambow,  although  much 
exhausted,  was  able  to  see  them  and  converse 
rationally.  She  had  determined  to  bear  the 
cross  God  had  laid  upon  her,  and  his  strength 
was  made  perfect  in  weakness ;  his  grace  was 
sufficient. 

"  Thus  when  some  long-loved  comfort  ends, 

And  nature  would  despair, 
Faith  to  the  heaven  of  heavens  ascends, 

And  meets  ten  thousand  there  ; 
First  faint  and  small,  then  clear  and  bright, 

They  gladden  all  the  gloom, 
And  stars  that  seem  but  points  of  light 

The  rank  of  suns  assume." 


IX. 

"Rejoice,  O  grieving  heart! 

The  hours  fly  fast! 
With  each  some  sorrow  dies, 
With  each  some  shadow  flies, 

Until,  at  last, 
The  red  dawn  in  the  east 
Bids  weary  night  depart, 

And  pain  is  past ! 
Rejoice,  then,  grieving  heart ! 

The  hours  fly  fast."  — ANON. 

order  to  appreciate  fully  the  occurrences 
of  the  past  few  days,  it  will  be  necessary 
to  recapitulate  somewhat.  The  momentous 
third  day  of  July  had  ended,  and  midnight 
had  fallen  upon  the  battle-field  of  Koniggratz. 
It  was  an  occasion  memorable  in  the  annals  of 
German  history.  The  remaining  Prussian  troops, 
after  the  day's  fatiguing  conflict,  had  encamped ; 
for  rest  is  as  necessary  to  the  exhausted  soldier 
as  food  and  drink. 

The  king's  Grenadier  Regiment,  together  with 
the  troops  of  the  Third  Division,  had  been  sub- 
jected many  hours  to  an  incessant  grenade  fire 

269 


2fo  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

near  Dohalitzka.  The  brave  Pomeranian  infantry 
had  not  been  obliged  to  meet  the  enemy  breast 
to  breast  as  at  Gitschin.  As  far  as  possible  they 
had  fought,  silently,  motivelessly,  in  sheltered 
positions  ;  but  it  was  a  difficult  exercise  to  with- 
stand the  violent  grenade  firing  of  the  Austrian 
artillery.  They  had  stood  like  a  wall,  although 
their  ranks  were  fearfully  thinned,  and  precious 
blood  ran  as  water  in  the  sand.  When  the 
Prussian  losses  were  estimated  later,  it  was  found 
that  those  regiments  which  stood  still  and  re- 
sisted the  enemy,  suffered  far  greater  in  the  num- 
ber of  dead  and  wounded  than  those  that  had 
been  pressed  forward  constantly  to  the  front. 

When  the  Austrians  for  the  first  time  began 
to  weaken  and  retreat  on  all  sides  (in  the  after- 
noon), the  Third  Division  shared  the  pursuit. 
In  the  forest  of  Problus  they  were  again  strongly 
attacked  by  the  enemy's  batteries  from  a  height. 
Elmbach  was  in  command  at  the  head  of  his 
company  in  the  full  flush  of  victory,  when  tid- 
ings reached  him  that  Drambow  had  fallen;  but 
in  the  storm  of  existing  circumstances  there  was 
not  a  moment's  time  for  its  consideration. 

Captain  Von  Drambow  had  been  in  an  intricate 
thicket,  where  enormous  eagle-ferns  grew  under 
the  old  trees.  They  snapped  and  cracked  around 
him  as  he  pressed  amid  their  hardy  stalks.  Sud- 
denly he  was  struck  by  a  stray  shot  or  shell,  a 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  271 

warm  stream  of  blood  gushed  violently  from  his 
right  side,  .and  he  fainted  away.  The  few  preced- 
ing moments  of  consciousness  had  been  devoted  to 
his  God  and  Savior.  "Come  what  may,"  he  had 
murmured,  "it  will  be  best.  I  shall  see  Him; 
my  soul  is  safe;  I  leave  myself  in  His  hands." 
Blessed  death  of  a  Christian  warrior  !  "  O  death, 
where  is  thy  sting?  O  grave,  where  is  thy 
victory?" 

He  had  known,  thereafter,  no  more  of  the 
battle  of  Koniggratz — no  more  of  Stettin  and  the 
pretty  little  home  at  the  termination  of  Birch 
Avenue. 

Long,  long  afterward,  he  was  penetrated  by  a 
strange  chill.  He  seemed  to  be  in  a  dark  valley, 
led  by  an  unseen  hand,  where  the  gloom  was 
starless.  Returning  consciousness  brought  a  con- 
fusion of  the  senses,  and  he  was  afraid  to  open 
his  eyes.  At  length  he  feebly  made  the  attempt, 
and  found  himself  on  the  ground,  surrounded 
overhead  by  thick  oak-branches,  that  rustled  in 
the  night-wind,  and  through  which  the  stars  glim- 
mered faintly.  He  now  heard  distinctly  the  gen- 
tle whispering  and  sighing  of  the  myriad  leaves, 
the  bristling  of  the  blades  of  grass,  through  which 
insects  flew  to  and  fro.  What  a  peculiar  sensation 
this  awful  stillness  and  desolation  !  He  seemed 
forsaken — carried  far,  far  away  into  a  strange 
country.  Raising  his  head  slightly,  it  sank 


272  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

back  instantly,  and  he  realized  that  the  painful 
wound  in  his  side  made  any  movement  impos- 
sible. A  grenade  splinter  had  pierced  directly 
under  the  right  arm,  then  gone  on  its  way  to 
become  imbedded  in  the  trunk  of  a  tough  ever- 
green. But  he  still  breathed ;  his  lungs  were 
uninjured,  and  his  heart  beat  regularly.  He 
prayed  long  and  fervently ;  and  though  the 
prayer  was  mingled  with  inexpressible  groans,  it 
brought  relief  to  his  soul.  Then  he  lapsed  into 
greater  weakness,  from  which,  with  a  sudden 
start,  came  the  perfectly  clear,  coherent  thought 
that  he  must  have  human  aid.  The  leaves  sobbed 
on,  and  the  stars  gleamed  and  twinkled  over  the 
forest  of  Problus.  But  his  tongue  was  parched, 
and  he  longed  for  water.  Falling  into  a  reverie, 
the  green  foliage  wove  themselves  into  folds  of 
satin,  which  the  reflecting  stars  heightened  into 
splendor,  and  upon  which  the  early  rising  sun 
imprinted  a  golden  circle.  A  little  white  cloud, 
quietly  hovering  over  all,  became  transformed 
into  one  of  his  little  wife's  white  dresses.  There 
she  seemed  to  stand  before  him,  lifting  to  his 
thirsty  lips  a  crystal  cup,  filled  to  the  brim  with 
the  purest  spring-water.  Her  sweet  eyes  were 
full  of  love  and  pity,  and  her  lovely  mien  re- 
plete with  solicitude,  as  dew  in  the  flower's 
calyx.  "Water!  water!" 

Minutes  of  suffering  are  long ;  hours  are  end 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  273 

less.  The  golden  chariot  of  day  now  slowly  de- 
parted, and  the  solitary  one  yielded  his  last  hope, 
and  stretched  his  stiffened  limbs  for  the  final 
conflict. 

But  from  the  north-western  side  came  an 
opening  through  the  tall  ferns ;  then  a  faint  red 
streak  of  light,  as  from  a  lantern.  The  head  of 
a  Prussian  soldier  became  visible ;  he  was  hat- 
less,  and  his  countenance  wore  an  expression  of 
deep  concern.  Suddenly  he  approached,  and 
gazing  as  if  his  eyes  would  start  from  their 
sockets,  he  gave  a  spring ;  and  now  Christian — 
strong,  hardy  Christian — kneels  at  Drambow's 
side.  For  the  first  time  in  his  life  he  weeps 
aloud,  and  although  a  disinterested  listener  might 
have  pronounced  this  weeping  a  howl,  it  was 
sweetest  music  to  his  captain's  ears. 

"Christian,"  whispered  the  wounded  man,  "I 
am  still  alive.  But  get  me  water;  then  I  shall 
be  better." 

The  old  servant  had  come  hither  alone  upon 
his  own  suggestion,  from  the  camp  in  the  dis- 
tance, having  concluded  neither  to  sleep  nor  eat 
until  his  master  were  found,  although  others  had 
searched  during  the  day  and  given  up  the  officer 
as  lost. 

On  the  way  he  had  fortunately  met  a  member 
of  the  sanitary  corps,  from  whom  he  had  ob- 
tained a  flask  of  wine.  Fondly  as  a  mother  with 


274  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

her  first-born,  Christian  raised  the  sufferer's  head, 
and  placed  the  Burgundy  to  his  lips.  It  came 
just  at  the  right  moment  to  restore  the  waning 
strength.  The  brave  fellow  then  bent  over  the 
wounded,  and  gave  a  still  more  terrible  howl 
as  the  gaping  wound  presented  itself  to  view. 

"Is  it,  then,  so  bad?"  whispered  Drambow. 

"Sir  Captain,  no  one  can  live  through  it." 

"I  do  not  think  so,  Christian;  try  to  be 
calm." 

"O,  sir,  what  shall  we  do?  Shall  I  cover  you 
with  my  cloak,  and  go  down  for  the  hospital 
ambulance  ?  I  am  not  quite  sure  of  the  way, 
and  there  are  thieves  creeping  everywhere  to 
plunder  the  wounded,  to  say  nothing  of  doing 
something  worse." 

"No,  no,  my  old  fellow  ;  do  not  leave  me.  I 
thank  you  a  thousand  times  for  your  search,  and 
your  mistress  will  also  be  very  grateful,  especially 
if  it  please  the  dear  Lord  to  call  me  to  himself." 

Christian,  by  dint  of  great  effort,  restrained 
another  outburst  of  the  howling. 

"Even  if  you  did  not  say  this,  sir,  a  Pomera- 
nian is  faithful;  that  no  one  can  deny;"  where- 
with he  covered  his  master  warmly,  after  rais- 
ing his  head  to  a  more  comfortable  position. 
Then  he  seated  himself  at  his  feet,  with  his 
left  hand  on  the  spring  of  his  rifle,  like  a  lion 
watching  over  its  young ;  and  woe  to  the  battle- 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  275 

field  hyenas  that  had  dared  to  cut  even  a  hair 
from  that  precious  head.  From  time  time  he 
refreshed  his  charge  with  drops  of  wine,  as  the 
lantern  burned  dimly  in  the  moss. 

Captain  Von  Drambow  felt  so  resigned,  so 
calm,  so  blessed  !  He  had  always  endeavored  to 
act  justly  toward  those  in  his  employ,  but  he  had 
scarcely  expected  such  self-sacrificing  devotion 
in  return.  He  was  not  a  man  to  demand  reward 
for  the  performance  of  duty.  He  gave  his 
whole  heart  to  the  king's  service,  and  relegated 
self  and  ambition  to  a  secondary  place.  Now 
this  sincere,  unaffected  devotion,  surrounding 
him  like  the  breath  of  angels'  wings,  assuaged 
even  his  physical  pain,  and  caused  him  to  sleep. 

The  faithful  watcher  waited  for  the  heavy 
breathing,  then  removed  his  coat  as  well,  and 
covered  the  sleeper's  feet.  He  wore,  with  many 
in  his  position,  a  woolen  shirt ;  but  the  night  was 
cold,  and  he  suffered  perceptibly  in  the  morning 
freshness.  But  one  thought  was  present, — to 
obtain  help  as  soon  as  the  sun  should  rise.  Be- 
tween whiles  he  nodded,  then  slept  soundly ;  for 
rest  was  very  necessary. 

The  day  had  already  dawned  when  Drambow 
awakened.  Uncomfortable  as  he  felt,  he  was 
surprised  not  to  be  more  miserable.  The  fresh 
air  invigorated  him,  and  he  observed  with  emo- 
tion that  his  feet  had  been  kept  warm  by  his  pro- 


276  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

lector's  coat.      He  regretted   to  rouse  him,  but 
the  occasion  demanded  it. 

"Wake  up,  Christian!" 

"At  your  service,  sir,"  said  the  sturdy  Pome- 
ranian, springing  up,  and  rubbing  his  eyes. 

"You  must  be  half  frozen,  my  dear  fellow. 
You  should  n't  have  taken  off  your  coat." 

"Ah,  sir,  when  you  called,  I  thought  I  was 
at  home  in  the  stable ;  and  this  was  all  a 
dream." 

Drambovv  smiled.  "No,  it  is  not  a  dream," 
and  he  looked  involuntarily  toward  his  right  side. 

"Let  me  look  at  it  once,  sir.  It  has  all 
clogged  up,  and  the  blood  does  not  flow.  You 
must  have  some  wine  now." 

"Yes,"  and  when  he  had  complied,  he  in- 
sisted: "Now  you  also  must  drink.  You  have 
exposed  yourself  greatly  during  the  past  twenty- 
four  hours." 

"Sir,  I  do  not  need  it  at  all." 

"But  I  shall  not  take  another  drop  until  you 
drink." 

Christian  knew  the  folly  of  gainsaying  his 
master's  word,  and  obeyed. 

The  day  was  beautiful.  From  far  and  near 
came  the  voices  and  tones  of  the  forest,  with 
their  throbbing  pulses  of  renewing  life.  The  love 
of  existence  awakened  strongly  in  the  wounded 
officer.  It  was  now  decided  that  Christian  should 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  277 

reconnoiter  in  the  immediate  vicinity.  Upon 
returning  he  reported  having  met  with  nothing 
save  reminiscences  of  the  previous  day's  battle. 
"Over[there,  sir,  wrapped  in  a  flag,  is  a  dead  man 
with  just  such  a  long  red  beard  as  yours,  sir ; 
but  his  face  is  so  mutilated  no  one  could  recog- 
nize him." 

"It  was  well  he  was  taken  quickly,"  replied 
Drambow,  significantly. 

Christian    again    started   out  in    an    opposite 

direction,  where  the  outlook  was  clearer,  through 

a   lighter   growth    of   oaks  and   beech.     He  re- 

.    mained   away    so    long   that    Drambow   became 

uneasy.     Finally  he  returned  in  breathless  haste. 

"Sir  Captain,  I  have  discovered  a  small  water- 
mill.  It  lies  over  there  almost  concealed  from 
view.  The  shells  have  struck  it  and  burned  what 
appears  to  have  been  a  stable,  but  the  house  is 
standing.  Not  a  soul  is  there ;  but  it  is  all  fur- 
nished, and  there  is  plenty  of  wood  for  a  fire.  Sir 
Captain,  we  must  go  there,  if  I  have  to  carry  you." 

"Lift  me  up,  and  I  will  make  the  effort." 

He  succeeded  better  than  they  thought.  With 
his  left  arm  over  the  broad  shoulders  of  his 
assistant,  he  made  progress,  half  led,  half  car. 
ried,  and  as  the  way  was  fortunately  level,  and 
they  rested  occasionally,  the  spot  was  reached. 

The  little  mill  stood  over  a  gaily  rushing 
brook,  concealed  in  the  midst  of  the  forest.  A 


278  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

lofty  old  willow  overshadowed  it,  and  a  narrow 
strip  of  meadow-land  followed  the  water-course 
zigzag.  It  was  inclosed  by  the  mountains  on  all 
sides,  so  that  the  traveler  would  probably  come 
upon  it  unexpectedly,  if  not  wholly  overlook  it. 
The  inmates  of  the  dwelling  had  been  obliged  to 
flee  for  their  lives,  and  the  evident  destruction 
caused  by  the  grenades  proved  they  had  acted 
wisely.  No  one  had  attempted  to  extinguish 
the  flames,  which  had  been  spent  without  mo- 
lesting the  miller's  humble  home.  The  mill- 
wheel  was  utterly  destroyed,  and  no  longer  clat- 
tered, having  experienced  the  enemy's  presence 
in  the  country. 

Captain  Von  Drambow  crossed  the  threshold, 
and  found  himself  under  a  strange  roof,  troubled 
with  no  other  desires  than  to  lie  upon  a  com- 
fortable bed.  Everything  around  betokened  an 
active  life.  Cleanliness  and  order  reigned  in 
these  modest  rooms,  still  impregnated  with  the 
odor  of  a  freshly  prepared  meal.  How  grateful 
was  the  restricted  but  cozy  little  living-room, 
with  its  old-fashioned  furniture  and  appointments  ! 
Christian  found  the  most  needful  things  in  every 
nook  and  corner.  How  he  kindled  a  fire  and 
had  warm  water  in  a  few  minutes;  how  he 
placed  the  wounded  man  in  a  great  easy-chair, 
removed  his  clothing  tenderly  to  avoid  giving 
pain,  carefully  washed  the  wound,  and  succeeded 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  279 

in  finding  old  linen  in  a  chest  painted  over  with 
red  and  white  tulips ;  how  he  finally  got  him 
comfortably  arranged  in  bed,  with  cold  com- 
presses against  the  injured  breast,  we  leave  to 
the  reader's  imagination.  But  one  must  have 
witnessed  it  in  order  to  appreciate  wholly  the 
loving  devotion  and  pleasant  change. 

"My  good  Christian,  Shakespeare's  Ariel, 
who  served  his  master  Prospero  on  the  wings  of 
the  wind,  was  nothing  to  you,"  said  Drambow, 
laying  his  delicately  cared  for  hand  with  grateful 
pressure  upon  the  large,  coarse  one  of  the  brave 
Pomeranian. 

"Sir  Captain,  he  was  not  with  us  in  our  bat- 
talion," replied  the  latter. 

"No,  Christian;   he  belongs  to  a  story." 

"This  is  like  a  fairytale,  sir — "  but  quickly 
stepping  back,  the  door  opened,  and  he  seized 
his  rifle.  It  was  only  a  black  cat,  that  walked  in 
and  seated  herself  at  the  foot  of  the  bed. 

"You  may  stay,"  said  the  captain,  closing 
his  eyes  in  extreme  weakness;  "this  is  the  prin- 
cess we  have  rescued." 

The  brook  murmured  sweetly,  two  wild 
pigeons  cooed  on  the  window-sill,  and  the  fragrant 
forest  air  was  wafted  into  the  room,  all  whisper- 
ing recovery,  return  to  the  fatherland,  to  the  dear 
wife  and  child.  "Little  Adolph — little  Adolph," 
came  from  the  lips  of  the  sleeping  father. 


280  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

While  the  invalid  was  enjoying  this  bene- 
ficial rest,  Christian  made  a  thorough  inspection 
of  the  premises.  Stepping  around  tiptoe,  he 
never  returned  from  his  inroads  without  an  ex- 
pression of  triumph.  Now  it  was  a  loaf  of 
bread,  then  a  bowl  of  meal;  this  time  a  fine 
ham,  then  a  piece  of  bacon ;  and  it  was  not  long 
before  he  might  have  been  seen  sitting  beside  the 
hearth,  in  perfect  contentment,  bravely  attacking 
a  smoking  dish,  held  between  his  knees. 

His  joy  knew  no  bounds  when  he  heard  the 
bleating  of  a  goat  in  the  garden.  He  at  once 
relieved  the  poor  creature  of  milk,  when  a  troop 
of  chickens  surrounded  him,  to  which  he  strewed 
corn,  and  reckoned  the  eggs  they  should  produce 
for  the  captain's  benefit.  Meanwhile  he  did  not 
forget  to  renew  the  cold  compresses ;  but  his 
charge,  notwithstanding,  fell  into  a  violent  fever. 
This  was  a  serious  time  to  poor  Christian.  He 
felt  the  loneliness  of  a  strange  land  more  than 
ever,  amid  the  delirious  outcries  of  the  sick  one. 
How  far  away  the  king's  Grenadier  Regiment 
now  was  from  them  !  Almost  to  Vienna.  And 
the  inhabitants  of  this  country,  those  black-haired, 
black-eyed  Bohemians,  whom  he  never  trusted, 
would  soon  return ;  then  woe  to  the  Prussians 
they  found  scattered  here  and  there !  But  he 
must  remain  with  his  captain;  and,  encouraged 
by  this  purpose,  he  examined  the  rifle  and 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  281 

counted  over  with  satisfaction  the  large  number  of 
cartridges  in  their  possession.  If  necessary,  he 
could  keep  a  whole  village  of  raw  peasants  at  bay. 

After  midnight  Drambow  became  calmer,  and 
Christian  was  able  to  sleep.  He  had  fastened 
the  door  with  great  precaution ;  but  no  one  ap- 
proached the  little  forest  mill  in  its  beautiful 
green  solitude. 

When  the  invalid  had  entirely  recovered  con- 
sciousness, his  wide-open  eyes  rested  upon  the 
sunlight  that  softly  entered  through  the  narrow 
panes  of  the  little  window.  He  felt  so  much  im- 
proved that  soon  he  was  able  to  sit  upright 
without  discomfort ;  and  when  his  anxious  nurse 
came  in  with  a  basket  made  of  rushes,  filled 
with  luscious  wild  raspberries,  a  thrill  of  hope 
penetrated  him  of  complete  recovery. 

The  two  held  long  consultations  as  to  the 
best  means  and  ways  of  finding  a  hospital  for  the 
care  of  Prussian  soldiers  ;  but  they  always  decided 
that  Christian  dare  not  leave  his  patient  alone. 

Thoughts  of  his  little  wife  troubled  him. 
"She  will  think  I  am  dead,"  he  sighed,  "and 
she  will  be  overcome  with  the  grief." 

Christian  also  sighed. 

"What  are  you  thinking  about,  my  fellow?" 

"Sir,  I  was  thinking  of  our  'bay.'     Gottfried 
does  n't  understand  how  to  manage  him.     I  wish 
we  were  all  together  once  more." 
24 


282  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

"So  do  I,  Christian;  as  to  the  bay,  whoever 
leads  our  company  will  ride  him.  We  must 
have  patience  ;  in  a  few  days  I  shall  be  strong 
enough  to  reconnoiter  with  you.  How  are  my 
clothes?" 

"All  in  good  order,  sir;  clean,  with  buttons 
polished ;  but  the  patch  I  set  over  the  hole  made 
by  the  grenade  splinter  is  not  the  best,  sir.  I 
got  it  from  the  miller's  chest,  and  we  could  not 
expect  it  to  pass  inspection." 

"My  dear  fellow,  I  shan't  think  of  that." 

' '  Yes,  I  know  it  is  always  good  for  you,  sir ; 
but  when  the  inspector  has  a  common  man  be- 
fore him — but  the  patch  will  have  to  pass;"  and 
Christian  looked  with  disconcerted  mien,  from 
the  recollection  of  a  lively  episode  during  his 
recruiting  period. 

"True,  the  field  marshal  is  very  strict  with  re- 
gard to  appearance,"  smiled  Drambow  ;  "but  the 
chief  thing  is  the  heart  that  beats  beneath  the 
jacket.  I  wish  they  were  all  like  yours — so 
brave,  so  faithful,  so  true!" 

Such  an  expression  from  his  master  caused 
Christian  to  be  willing  to  stay  forever,  if  need  be, 
as  his  nurse  and  protector ;  but  it  should  happen 
otherwise. 

Although  Drambow  was  able  to  leave  his  bed 
for  hours,  he  had  not  gained  sufficient  strength 
for  a  reconnoiter.  He  was  therefore  obliged  to 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  283 

be  content  with  sitting  by  an  open  window  in 
the  easy-chair,  to  inhale  the  meadow  odors,  and 
listen  to  the  murmuring  brook.  The  weather 
was  extremely  beautiful.  Little  white  clouds 
shifted  across  the  deep-blue  sky ;  the  willow 
branches  scarcely  stirred ;  and  in  the  universal 
silence,  only  the  hum  of  bees  was  to  be  heard. 

The  convalescent  was  moved  by  peculiar  emo- 
tions, in  which  his  wife's  seamstress  played  an 
important  role.  She  had  once  left  at  his  home 
a  book  entitled  "Elijah,"  by  Krummacher,  the 
pages  of  which  he  had  turned  over  in  an  idle 
hour.  He  recollected  where  the  prophet,  hid- 
ing at  the  brook  Cherith,  was  fed  by  ravens, 
and  how  in  solitude  he  grew  in  faith  and  self- 
knowledge.  The  thought  recurred  to  him : 
"Why  should  I  not  do  likewise  here?" 

A  brook  murmured  before  his  door,  while  a 
faithful  raven,  in  Christian's  homely  guise,  flitted 
to  and  fro,  that  he  should  want  for  nothing. 
Nothing  ?  When  he  had  stood  on  the  threshold 
of  eternity  had  there  been  other  consolation  to 
his  soul  than  Christ  the  Redeemer  of  men  ? 
And  would  he  not  desire  to  possess  in  life  what 
he  had  recognized  in  the  shadow  of  death?  O, 
yes ;  henceforth  his  heart  and  his  home  should 
stand  open  to  receive  the  sacred  guest ;  he  would 
not  only  be  a  father  and  husband,  but  a  high- 
priest  in  his  family.  With  this  resolution  came 


284  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

a  holy  peace  and  calm,  and  upon  his  noble  face 
lay  an  expression  of  joyous  sunshine. 

Christian  had  gone  out  again  for  raspber- 
ries. One  of  the  wild  doves  had  suddenly  flown 
away  as  if  frightened.  A  wagon  turned  the 
corner  of  the  little  dwelling,  and  before  Dram- 
bow  could  utter  a  cry,  it  was  before  the  door. 
Two  men  and  two  women  alighted.  The  small 
conveyance  was  overladen  with  boxes  and  chests. 
One  of  the  women — a  pretty,  young  girl,  with 
dark,  bright  eyes — carried  a  commodious  hat- 
box.  The  miller — for  it  was  really  he — had 
driven  the  horse  from  a  seat  composed  of  bun- 
dles of  straw,  and  cast  an  angry  glance  towards 
the  stable  as  he  sprang  from  the  wagon,  and 
threw  the  reins  to  his  servant.  With  a  hasty 
oath,  whip  in  hand,  he  stormed  towards  the  door, 
pushed  it  open ;  then  stepped  back  in  amaze- 
ment, to  see  a  large,  pale,  strange  man  standing 
beside  the  open  window.  He  wore  the  miller's 
own  flour-jacket,  and  was  weaponless,  as  Chris- 
tian had  left  the  gun  in  the  kitchen  to  be  cleaned. 

Behind  the  miller  was  his  sturdy  servant  and 
the  women,  the  younger  one  holding  fast  to  her 
hat-box,  and  peering  over  the  men's  shoulders 
with  great  eagerness.  All  perceived  the  situa- 
tion of  affairs  at  once. 

"So,  here  is  one  of  those  cursed  Prussians  in 
the  nest,"  began  the  miller,  pressing  forward,  in 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  285 

his  blustering  way.  "Do  you  think  this  is 
soldiers'  quarters?"  he  added,  imperiously. 

"  Captain  Von  Drambow,  of  the  king's  Grena- 
dier Regiment,"  was  the  calm  reply;  "as  soon 
as  my  wound  permits,  I  shall  leave  the  house." 

"As  if  it  were  not  enough  to  have  my  prop- 
erty burned  down,  and  .we  must  flee  and  leave 
our  possessions  behind !"  continued  the  miller. 

"There  can't  be  but  one  of  them,"  whis- 
pered t-he  servant ;  "there  is  only  one  hat  on  the 
nail,  and  far  and  wide  no  one  is  to  be  seen. 
Shall  I  shoot  him?"  -:^.. 

He  drew  a  pistol,  and  directed  it  at  Dram- 
bow's  wounded  side.  The  elder  woman  screamed, 
while  the  young  girl  put  her  hat-box  carefully  on 
the  table,  extended  the  folds  of  her  dress  with  her 
finger-tips,  and  placed  herself  tragically  before  the 
captain,  like  a  protecting  hen.  "Do  him  no 
harm,"  she  cried,  with  flashing  eyes;  "rather 
shoot  me  than  him !  I  knew  the  soldiers  of  the 
king's  Grenadier  Regiment  from  Stettin.  They 
are  brave  men,  and  helped  me  in  time  of  need ;" 
whereupon  she  related  her  experiences  at  Gits- 
rhin,  in  breathless  excitement. 

This  was  none  other  than  the  little  bonne 
whom  Winter  and  Schultz  had  discovered  near 
the  hen-coop,  and  who  had  joined  her  relatives, 
the  miller  and  his  wife,  at  a  village  whither  they 
had  fled  for  safety.  Perhaps  a  northern  "win- 


286  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

ter"  had  been  transformed  into  a  Bohemian  love 
"spring"  in  her  heart  and  mind.  Be  that  as  fr 
may,  she  was  determined  to  protect  the  captain 
with  her  own  hands,  if  necessary ;  but  at  this 
moment  Christian  came  running  forward,  gun  in 
hand,  having  heard  the  unusual  din  of  voices. 
Covering  his  master  with  his  body,  as  a  turkey- 
gobbler  with  outspread  wings,  he  was  ready  also 
to  fire  at  the  intruders  in  a  moment's  notice. 
But  the  girl  stretched  out  her  hands  implor- 
ingly with : 

"You  must  leave  here  without  fighting,"  and, 
thanks  to  her  influence,  peace  preliminaries  were 
begun,  and  more  friendly  relations  established. 
Christian  should  have  a  room  near  his  master, 
while  the  kitchen  and  hearth  should  be  neutral 
ground,  the  miller  furnishing  necessary  supplies, 
for  which  Drambow  would  allow  him  a  cor- 
responding recompense  upon  departure. 

The  miller  and  his  wife  soon  discovered  how 
fortunate  they  had  been  in  having  their  home  fall 
into  such  hands.  Everything  was  in  the  best 
order  possible. 

Christian  began  at  once  to  get  the  great 
wheel  restored  for  action,  and  it  was  not  long 
before  the  familiar  clatter  was  again  heard  in  the 
forest.  The  brook,  laying  her  unwilling  yoke 
over  it,  threw  sparkling  crests  of  foam,  then 
dashed  away  with  redoubled  energy  to  the  level. 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  287 

He  also  assisted  assiduously  in  restoring  the  sta- 
ble, the  walls  of  which  remained  ;  and,  as  clay 
and  wood  were  abundant,  the  horse  soon  had 
a  comfortable  shelter. 

Fraulein  Michalina,  the  little  bonne,  proffered 
all  the  assistance  possible,  never  failing  to  bring 
the  conversation  upon  the  Pomeranian  reserves. 
Upon  one  occasion,  as  Christian  was  engaged 
among  the  willows  cutting  beams  for  the  stable 
roof,  she  appeared  at  the  house  door  with  her 
crocheting.  Seeing  him,  she  came  dancing  over 
the  grass,  and  finally,  standing  near,  she  sum- 
moned courage  to  ask  plainly:  "Do  you  know 
an  Alfred  Winter  in  your  regiment?" 

"Who  does  n't  know  him  ?"  replied  the  sturdy 
Pomeranian,  swinging  the  heavy  beams  as  if  they 
had  been  hazel-switches. 

"Is  he  such  a  fine  man,  then?"  she  pursued, 
looking  shyly  upon  her  finger,  where  shone  a 
gold  ring  mounted  with  a  huge,  blue  forget- 
me-not. 

"Yes;  he  stole  chickens  at  Gitschin,"  said 
her  companion,  laconically. 

"Not  in  earnest;  I  was  there,  and  saw  just 
how  it  happened."  Then  she  laughed,  showing 
her  pretty  ^white  teeth:  "  Cesf  la  guerre — but 
perhaps  you  do  n't  understand  French  ?  I  learned 
it  from  our  little  one's  governess.", 

"No,  I  do  n't  understand  French.     No  French- 


288  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

man  trusts  himself  with  us  since  we  got  this  kind 
of  rifles.  But  Alfred  Winter  ate  the  chickens, 
if  you  call  that  fine." 

"Pshaw!  what  matters  an  old  black  hen? 
He  rescued  me,  stood  by  me  when  I  was  alone 
in  Gitschin,  and  I  like  Mr.  Alfred  Winter  very 
much  indeed." 

"The  Fifth  Company  also  likes  him ;  he 
makes  much  sport  for  them,"  rejoined  Christian. 

"What  does  he  do  at  Stettin?  Has  he 
always  been  a  soldier?" 

"He  doesnt  do  anything  regularly;  he  only 
plays  the  fiddle.  Wherever  there  is  a  wedding 
or  fair,  people  expect  to  find  him.  He  eats  as. 
much  as  he  can,  and  plays  for  them  to  dance. 
He  understands  music,  no  one  can  deny  that ; 
for  one  could  dance  all  night  when  he  is  the 
fiddler." 

"O,  I  like  that!"  exclaimed  Michalina,  clap- 
ping her  hands.  "I — I  don't  do  very  much 
either.  But  to  dance — to  dance ;  that  is  my 
life!"  Whereupon  she  stretched  herself  like  a 
bird  about  to  fly,  and  pirouetted  before  him  on 
tiptoe  in  an  ecstasy  of  happiness. 

But  the  performance  no  more  disturbed  Chris- 
tian's matter-of-fact  nature  than  the  jumping  of 
a  grasshopper. 

"I  didn't  see  him  at  Kb'niggratz,"  he  con- 
tinued, when  she  had  stopped  dancing.  "When 


. SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  289 

we  were  at  Bistritz,  about  eleven  o'clock  in  the 
forenoon  I  saw  him,  but  not  afterward.  Toward 
evening,  when  I  was  getting  a  lantern  ready  to 
look  for  my  captain,  some  one  said,  'Alfred 
Winter  is  missing;'  but  another  soon  added, 
'He  is  all  right;  bad  weeds  don't  die;'"  where- 
with Christian  made  the  splinters  fly. 

This  last  remark  caused  a  shadow  to  fall  upon 
the  pretty  young  Bohemian  girl's  face,  and  she 
returned  slowly  to  the  house. 

Drambow  was  enabled  now  to  learn  his  where- 
abouts. He  discovered  that  he  was  not  more 
than  two  miles  distant  from  a  hospital  at  Hor- 
zitz,  and  he  impatiently  anticipated  the  day  when 
his  condition  should  be  favorable  for  transporta- 
tion there.  He  had  already  exerted  himself  by 
writing  a  long  letter  to  his  little  wife,  giving  a 
detailed  account  of  his  disaster. 

Perhaps  sooner  than  prudent,  he  decided  to 
leave  the"  mill.  As  the  miller  had  been  richly 
compensated  for  his  trouble,  he  desired  to  re- 
tain his  guest  longer.  The  Prussian  silver  dol- 
lar still  shone  in  very  attractive  splendor !  But 
Fraulejn  Michalina  resolutely  returned  every  gift, 
begging  only,  with  downcast  eyes  and  blushing 
cheeks,  the  favor  of  a  word  concerning  "a  Mr. 
Alfred  Winter." 

Wrapped  in  Christian's  cloak — the  owner  of 
which  sat  beside  the  miller,  who  insisted  on  taking 
25 


290  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

his  patient  to  Horzitz — the  captain  sat  on  a 
bundle  of  straw,  with  another  at  his  back  for 
support,  and  drove  away  from  his  asylum.  He 
was  still  weak,  but  his  recovery  was  assured. 
In  his  heart  sang  a  choir  of  thanksgiving.  God 
had  not  called  him  from  existence.  As  a  reward 
for  his  pain,  a  compensation  had  been  presented 
to  him,  none  other  than  an  interest  in  Eternal 
Life,  which  should  be  his  for  ever  and  ever.  As 
a  flower  lives  upon  the  beams  of  the  sun,  so 
would  he  also  bask  in  the  rays  of  the  Sun  of 
righteousness.  Happy  be  thy  pilgrimage,  faith- 
ful soldier !  There  are  earthly  and  there  are 
heavenly  laurels  ;  both  are  green  for  you  ! 

In  the  journey  they  passed  over  part  of  the 
battle-field.  Wagons,  remnants  of  uniforms,  and 
cannon  lay  scattered  everywhere.  Here  and 
there  a  rough  cross,  or  a  bayonet  bearing  a 
pierced  helmet  upon  its  handle,  marked  the  spot 
of  some  fallen  hero. 

The  roofs  of  the  little  city  of  Horzitz  finally 
loomed  up  through  the  foliage.  As  in  all  Bo- 
hemian towns,  the  streets  are  narrow  and  crooked, 
while  here  and  there  may  be  seen,  on  high 
columns,  old  brown  crucifixes,  as  well  as  pic- 
turesque fountains.  The  market-place  was  sur- 
rounded by  inartistic  shops,  built  of  stone,  and 
the  town  hall  in  this  same  locality  was  now  used 
by  Prussian  authority  as  a  hospital.  Here  the 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  291 

miller's  wagon  halted,  and  Drambow,  assisted  up 
the  steps,  was  placed  in  a  room  set  apart  for 
officers,  after  a  few  inquiries.  The  chief  sur- 
geon, upon  examining  the  wound,  pronounced  it 
in  excellent  condition,  and  expressed  the  hope 
that  he  might  soon  return  home,  where  better 
care  would  be  received  than  the  hospital  afforded. 

Drambow  related  the  circumstances  attending 
his  injury  and  subsequent  sojourn  at  the  mill, 
to  which  the  surgeon  listened  with  deepest  atten- 
tion. While  this  was  taking  place  several  gen- 
tlemen passed  the  room-door,  for  the  most  part 
civilians.  One  of  them — an  elderly,  fine-looking 
man,  with  a  mild,  interesting  face — hearing  Dram- 
bow's  voice,  without  waiting  to  consider,  ap- 
proached him  with  extended  hands.  Tears  rolled 
down  his  face  unchecked:  "Has  the  dead 
risen?"  exclaimed  Councilor  Elmbach ;  "and 
your  poor  little  wife,  believing  herself  to  be  a 
widow,  is  like  an  extinguished  light." 

"'O,  she  must  have  received  better  news," 
rejoined  the  captain  with  a  happy  smile;  "here 
is  the  brave  fellow  to  whom  I  owe  my  life." 

Christian  blushed  like  a  young  girl. 

"I  saw  my  son  on  the  morning  after  the 
battle ;  but  he  could  not  talk  of  you.  He  said 
the  laurels  won  at  Kbniggratz  withered  beneath 
his  sorrow  over  your  grave ;  for  you  have  been 
really  and  truly  buried,  my  dear  sir.  They 


292  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

found  you  with  mutilated  head  in  a  wood  near 
Problus,  as  they  believed.  When  your  servant 
failed  to  return,  my  son  sent  a  patrol  of  hospital 
aids  to  search  for  you,  and  your  subordinate 
officer,  who  accompanied  them,  recognized  you 
by  your  long,  beautiful  beard.  As  if  other  men 
did  not  wear  such  beards !  God  be  praised  that 
you  live!" 

"But  you  must  sleep  now,"  interrupted  the 
surgeon.  "Although  statistics  prove  the  Pome- 
ranian's nervous  system  to  be  stronger  than  other 
men's,  we  can  *t  always  be  certain.  Rest  is  the 
first  duty  here;"  and  the  jovial  man,  who  en- 
joined rest  upon  everybody  but  himself,  hurried 
out  to  give  ,his  attention  to  other  professional 
duties. 

"Only  one  question,"  entreated  Drambow, 
seizing  Councilor  Elmbach's  sleeve;  "to  what 
fortunate  circumstance  do  I  owe  your  presence 
here?" 

"I  left  Stettin  immediately  after  the  struggle 
at  Gitschin,  news  having  been  received  there 
which  gave  rise  to  gravest  apprehensions.  I 
traveled  day  and  night,  only  to  find  my  son 
sound  and  well — " 

"And  hero  of  the  day, "  interjected  Drambow. 

"When  I  was  once  here,  and  my  child  re- 
quired no  care,  I  concluded  to  remain  "and  care 
•for  the  children  of  others.  I  connected  myself 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  293 

with  the  Knights  of  St.  John,  pledged  my 
services  and  means,  and  I  can  assure  you  we 
have  worked  hard.  As  we  are  at  present  pro- 
curing transportation  for  the  wounded,  with 
your  permission  I  will  take  you  under  my  spe- 
cial care,  and  convey  you  myself  to  your  wife 
and  home." 

"Only  too  gladly,"  responded  Drambow ; 
"but  I  fear  Adolph  will  not  recognize  me." 

The  councilor  wiped  his  eyes  in  a  suspicious 
manner ;  then  withdrew,  in  order  not  to  conflict 
with  the  surgeon's  orders. 

While  the  captain  slept,  Christian,  with 
thoughtful  consideration,  visited  the  hospital  to 
hear  from  the  wounded  of  his  own  regiment. 
Passing  from  ward  to  ward,  he  was  surprised  to 
hear  the  soft  tones  of  a  violin.  He  looked  cau- 
tiously within,  through  a  door-chink,  and  there 
sat  Alfred  Winter  on  a  small  cot,  playing  his 
riddle.  A  group  of  wounded  soldiers  clustered 
around  him ;  they  were  pale  and  wan,  but  listen- 
ing in  rapt  attention  to  the  familiar  strains  of 
"There  is  rest  for  the  weary." 

"Yes;  we  heard  Linnie  Bergmann  sing  that 
when  we  were  quartered  near  shoemaker  Schultz's. 
We  have  learned  it,  and  when  we  were  in  biv- 
ouac, and  the  stars  shone  above  us,  and  every- 
thing was  still,  we  sang  it." 

Christian   now   entered  with   his    accustomed 


294  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

broad  grin,  and,  stepping  up  to  Winter,  reached 
out  his  hand:    "Well,  joker,  how  do  you  do?" 
The  answer  came  merrily : 

"  I  'm  full  of  pains, 
One  leg  remains — 
But  it  never  rains  !" 

"Your  leg  off?"  asked  Christian,  sympa- 
thetically. 

"Yes;  far  off  on  the  battle-field  of  Kbnig- 
gratz.  What  would  n't  a  man  give  for  his  father- 
land?" he  replied,  looking  proudly  over  his 
audience. 

"It  will  never  grow  again,"  observed  Chris- 
tian, plaintively;  for  the  lusty  fellow  was  truly 
sorry. 

"It  surprises  me,"  continued  Winter,  "that 
while  everyone  knows  Adam  was  not  Adam,  but 
a  frog — at  least  they  say  so,  and  I  always  be- 
lieved it,  and  made  jokes  over  it — yet  there  is 
nothing  yet  growing  out  of  my  stump — no  de- 
velopment ;  so  there  must  be  a  great  mistake 
somewhere." 

"Men  should  n't  talk  so  much,"  argued  Chris- 
tian. "One  ought  to  have  the  thing  right  in 
his  own  mind  before  he  opens  his  mouth.  That 
about  the  frog  is  foolish.  How  ever  could  you 
believe  it,  Winter?" 

"Young  man,"  cried  the  latter,  "it  makes  a 
big  difference  whether  one  has  been  in  battle 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  295 

or  not.  A  man  is  nothing  until  he  hears  the 
boom,  boom,  boom !  and  feels  the  rascally  bul- 
lets hum  about  his  ears  like  a  swarm  of  flies,  and 
sees  the  old  shells  crash  around  like  beetles ; 
then  it  goes  whiz !  bang !  crack !  and  the  leg 
flies  away  from  a  man's  body.  There  is  no  joke 
in  that,  I  can  tell  you." 

"Why  do  you  lie  here  among  the  lightly 
wounded?" 

"I  must  play  the  fiddle,  you  know,  and  over 
there  it  disturbs  the  dying ;  so  I  begged  the  sur- 
geon to  have  me  brought  here.  I  like  sacred 
music  best  now,"  Winter  added,  solemnly. 

"How  is  Schultz?"  inquired  Christian. 

"O  he  is  a  great  man  now,  on  account  of  Gits- 
chin.  A  bullet  struck  him  in  the  breast,  and  was 
buried  in  a  little  Testament  that  the  seamstress 
gave  him.  He  is  a  corporal,  and  the  colonel 
thinks  highly  of  him." 

"The  colonel  is  a  brave  man,"  added  Christian. 

"But  nothing  to  our  Captain  Elmbach.  He 
is  the  great  locomotive,  and  we  are  only  the 
wagons.  We  had  to  follow  him,  and  we  flew 
behind  him  like  wolves !  But  I  am  sorry  I  shall 
never  be  able  to  join  him  again  ;"  and  the  "joker  " 
sighed  deeply. 

The  visitor  related  his  experiences  in  his  slow, 
clumsy  fashion,  and  it  was  long  before  he  reached 
the  surprising  arrival  of  the  miller's  family. 


296  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

When  Winter  heard  of  Fraulein  Michalina  he  was 
warmly  interested ;  but  later  a  crestfallen  ex- 
pression overshadowed  his  face,  and  he  said 
rather  suddenly:  "I  don't  think  I  shall  ever 
win  the  treasure  now.  Who  would  marry  a  man 
with  only  one  leg?"  and  two  shimmering  drops 
rolled  down  his  cheeks  as  he  laid  his  head 
despairingly  on  the  pillow. 

When  Christian  returned  to  his  master,  and 
had  related  the  incident,  Captain  Von  Drambow 
immediately  dispatched  a  messenger  with  a  letter 
addressed  to  Fraulein  Michalina. 

Alfred  Winter  lay  alone  in  his  cot,  very 
lonely  and  uncomfortable — a  new  experience  for 
him  ;  for  he  had  always  enjoyed  life,  like  a  happy 
insect  playing  in  the  sunshine.  Now  the  earnest 
had  come,  and  gloomy  waters  of  trouble  rolled 
over  his  soul.  The  forlorn  musician  scarcely 
knew  that  he  prayed  or  to  whom  ;  but  it  eased 
his  heavy  heart,  and  he  had  unconsciously  folded 
his  hands.  The  door  opened  lightly ;  something 
in  the  guise  of  a  lovely  rose  covered  with  dew 
appeared,  and,  almost  before  he  could  recognize 
her,  Michalina  fell  on  her  knees  before  him,  sob- 
bing as  if  her  heart  would  break.  But  soon  she 
raised  her  head,  and,  'smiling  through  tears,  as- 
sured him  she  had  come  to  take  care  of  him, 
and  would  never,  never  leave  him, — laughing  and 
crying  alternately,  like  an  April  day. 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  297 

It  seemed  to  Alfred  Winter  as  though  she 
had  dropped  from  heaven  to  earth  for  his  com- 
fort and  joy.  Yes ;  by  her  side  life  would  never 
be  gloomy.  How  lovely  she  looked  !  And  she 
would  help  him  !  Ah !  he  must  have  her  ! 

They  made  plans,  and  consulted  very  .wisely; 
but  of  these  the  reader  shall  know  hereafter. 

Councilor  Elmbach  made  preparations  for 
Drambow's  return  to  Stettin  with  fatherly  care, 
and  they  began  the  journey  in  a  few  days. 

It  had  seemed  very  strange  to  the  captain 
that  no  news  had  been  received  from  his  wife,  at 
Horzitz.  The  cause  of  this  had  been  the  wreck- 
ing of  a  postal  car  by  a  railroad  accident. 


X. 


"  Sow  truth  if  thou  wouldst  reap  ; 

Who  sows  the  false  shall  reap  the  vain  ; 
Erect  and  sound  thy  conscience  keep; 
From  hollow  words  and  deeds  refrain. 

Sow  love,  and  taste  its  fruitage  pure; 

Sow  peace,  and  reap  its  harvests  bright; 
Sow  sunbeams  on  the  rock  and  moor, 

And  find  a  harvest-home  of  light." 

—  H.  BONAR. 

more  the  sun  was  able  to  penetrate 
the  dull,  leaden  clouds  which  had  over- 
shadowed  Stettin  so  long;  and  her  people 
were  encouraged  to  hope  that  the  time  of 
pestilence  had  passed.  It  is  true  there  remained 
sorrow  enough  on  account  of  the  frightful  war, 
which,  daily  and  hourly,  recorded  deaths  of 
many  beloved  ones. 

In  Captain  Von  Drambow's  home  a  slender 
form  might  be  seen  gliding  around  silently,  clad 
in  deepest  mourning,  caring  nothing  for  the  outer 
world,  and  shrinking  even  from  her  little  one's 
childish  laugh  and  prattle.  The  inconsolable 
298 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  299 

woman  could  be  comforted  only  by  "the  seam- 
stress of  Stettin."  She  alone  knew  the  source 
of  all  true  consolation,  and  was  able  to  direct 
the  sick  heart  heavenward. 

Upon  one  occasion,  when  she  was  sewing 
here,  General  Von  Geldern  and  his  daughter 
called,  as  they  frequently  did.  The  former  was 
pleased  to  find  Linnie  with  his  little  friend,  being 
confident  of  her  ability  to  assuage  the  awful 
grief  that  possessed  the  young  widow's  heart. 
Toward  five  o'clock  of  the  same  day,  a  postman 
handed  to  Henrietta  a  letter  with  the  remark : 
"This  has  been  delayed  two  weeks." 

The  maid  observed,  from  the  penmanship, 
that  it  was  from  her  deeply  mourned  master, 
and  intuitively  carried  it  to  Linnie,  exclaim- 
ing: "See!  here  is  a  letter  from  Captain  Von 
Drambow." 

Linnie  made  a  gesture  of  silence :  ' '  How  can 
you  say  so,  Henrietta?  Be  careful!" 

Yet  it  was  evidently  his  handwriting ;  but  the 
seamstress  concluded  it  would  not  be  wise  to 
place  it,  at  present,  in  Frau  Von  Drambow's 
hands.  She  consulted  Asta,  therefore,  and  they 
decided  to  withhold  it,  for  a  time  at  least,  until 
the  general  should  be  made  acquainted  with 
the  fact. 

He  returned  late  in  the  afternoon,  and  they 
all  gathered,  after  dinner,  under  the  apple-tree 


300  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

in  the  garden.  While  they  were  seated  there,  a 
carriage  rolled  up  to  the  hedge ;  but  none  of  the 
party  appeared  to  observe  it.  Councilor  Elm- 
bach  alighted,  looked  around  somewhat  surprised  ; 
then  whispering  a  few  words  to  some  one  within 
tke«  coaGlfr*.  .the  door  of  which  he  close'd — he 
noiselessly  opened  the  garden  gate,  and  walked 
rapidly  toward  the  apple-tree.  A  few  moments 
later  he  was  observed  by  all  with  great  surprise, 
especially  by  the  general,  who  arose,  and  flush- 
ing deeply,  stared  at  his  former  friend,  with 
whom  he  had  not  exchanged  a  word  since  the 
eventful  dissension  of  many  years  ago.  He  was 
well  nigh  disconcerted ;  but  the  councilor  paid 
no  attention  to  any  of  the  group  save  the  young 
widow,  upon  whom  he  gazed  with  interested  so- 
licitude. He  carried  his  hat  in  hand ;  but  in  the 
momentary  confusion  no  one  invited  him  to  be 
seated. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  explained,"  stand- 
ing before  Frau  Von  Drambow ;  "has  no  letter 
reached  you  announcing  my  arrival?" 

Asta  was  too  embarrassed  to  aid  her  friend, 
who  now  approached  him  with  a  faint  cry,  and 
offered  her  hand. 

"You  came  from  his  grave,"  she  said.  "O, 
have  you  really  seen  it?" 

"No,  my  dear  madame,  I  have  not  seen  it. 
My  son  and  I  searched  vainly  to  find  it." 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  301 

"Not  found!"  she  mourned  in  bitter  disap- 
pointment, reseating  herself.  The  others  now 
followed  her  example,  the  visitor  placing  his 
chair  beside  her. 

"I  desire  first  to  present  you  my  son's  re- 
gard," placing  his  hat  upon  the  table,  but  never 
removing  his  eyes  from  his  listener.  "He  is 
quite  well,  and  you  know  peace  negotiations 
were  concluded  on  the  26th  of  July." 

How  could  he  speak,  of  that  ?  Even  the  gen- 
eral was  unable  to  suppress  an  "ahem  !" 

"One  has  wonderful  experiences  in  the  rear 
of  an  army,"  continued  the  councilor.  "I  have 
just  witnessed  a  remarkable  incident  at  Berlin, 
which  I  shall  never  forget.  I  saw  a  woman 
there  whose  husband  was  reported  to  have 
fallen,  and  who  belonged  to  the  king's  Grena- 
dier Regiment — "  he  paused  an  instant,  and 
looked  from  one  to  the  other — "that  is  to  say, 
there  was  a  mistake ;  for  the  person  is  really  not 
dead,"  he  stammered  awkwardly. 

"My  child,"  interposed  the  general  to  Asta, 
"are  you  ill?" 

She  had  grown  pale,  and  her  very  soul  seemed 
to  hang  upon  the  speaker's  lips.  But  the  nar- 
rator did  not  heed  the  interruption.  "The 
letters  from  the  wounded  man,  who,  with  his 
devoted  servant,  had  been  isolated  from  all  com- 
munication with  the  outer  world  by  an  extraor- 


302  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

dinary  circumstance,  must  have  been  lost.  So 
it  happened  the  man  returned  unexpectedly, 
with  a  friend,  to  his  home" — the  councilor's 
voice  trembled  perceptibly — "where  the  family 
was  found  assembled  beneath  an  apple-tree,  just 
as  you  are  here,  my  dear — " 

Frau  Von  Drambow  looked  up,  startled. 

"Do you  think  joy  has  ever  killed  any  one?" 
he  pursued.  She  sprang  up  as  if  she  would 
escape. 

"Mathilda!"  uttered  a  soft  voice  behind  her. 
She  turned  to  the  entrance  of  the  arbor,  and  fell 
in  her  husband's  arms. 

Unable  to  restrain  his  restless  longing,  the 
captain,  supported  by  Christian,  had  left  the  car- 
riage, and  before  the  councilor  had  completed 
his  well-meant  preparations,  the  husband  was 
before  her. 

Sympathizing  hands  administered  to  both ; 
but  magic  caresses  from  the  beloved,  better  than 
all  other  restorative  arts,  soon  restored  the 
swooning  wife.  This  blessed  return  was  a  glimpse 
of  heavenly  joy  transferred  to  earth. 

Councilor  Elmbach,  the  general,  Asta,  and 
Linnie  were  also  filled  with  pleasure  immeas- 
urable during  this  never-to-be-forgotten  hour. 
Adolph  finally  made  his  appearance,  kicking  his 
little  legs  vigorously,  and  crying,  "Papa!"  The 
general  was  obliged  to  take  him  from  the  nurse's 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  303 

arms,  and  transfer  the  beautiful  boy  to  his  father, 
who  showered  upon  him  kisses  and  tears.  The 
councilor's  warning  must  now  be  heeded,  and 
Drambow  was  almost  forcibly  led  in  triumph  to 
the  house. 

His  wife  suddenly  became  transfused  with 
her  old-time  energy.  The  thought  of  having 
her  husband  to  care  for  imbued  her  with  life  and 
action,  and  it  was  not  long  before  he  lay  in  his 
own  comfortable  bed,  with  the  golden  light  of 
the  setting  sun  playing  upon  the  walls  and  ceil- 
ing of  the  dear  sanctuary. 

Linnie  and  Asta,  in  a  favorable  moment,  re- 
moved from  the  room  and  house  all  traces  of 
mourning,  throwing  over  the  little  wife  a  white 
crocheted  shawl.  When  they  were  once  more 
alone  she  sank  by  his  side  on  her  knees,  and 
prayed  long  and  fervently.  It  was  a  mutual 
outpouring  of  gratitude  and  thanksgiving  to  the 
faithful  Promiser,  and  now  they  could  both  truly 
say  the  ninety-first  Psalm,  after  all,  had  not 
deceived  them. 

Soon  after,  Christian  was  called.  With  Adolph 
in  his  arms,  thrusting  his  chubby  fists  energet- 
ically into  the  brave  fellow's  face,  he  responded, 
"At  your  service,  sir;"  then  added:  "Now  only 
the  bay  is  wanting." 

"Look  at  him,"  said  Drambow  to  his  wife; 
"  my  guardian  angel  concealed  in  his  form  ;"  and 


304  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

an  affectionate  glance  rested  upon  the  devoted 
man  as  he  related  the  circumstances  attendant 
upon  his  injury  and  Christian's  services.  "You 
shall  have  good  days  as  long  as  you  live,  my 
dear  fellow.  We  both  shall  never  forget  you," 
he  concluded,  with  emotion. 

The  happy,  grateful  wife  seized  the  sturdy 
Pomeranian's  hand,  assuring  him,  with  tears  and 
blessing,  that  she  should  never  cease  to  pray  for 
him.  This  was  too  much  for  Christian,  and  he 
began  to  howl  with  his  former  extraordinary  vehe- 
mence. The  general  relieved  him  by  taking  little 
Adolph  in  his  own  arms,  and  they  all  withdrew, 
leaving  husband  and  wife  alone.  Following  the 
faithful  man,  the  general  pressed  into  his  unwilling 
hands  a  handsome  amount  of  gold ;  then  returned 
to  the  drawing-room,  which  had  been  adorned 
with  flowers,  and  where  the  canary  was  again  per- 
mitted to  warble  his  welcome  in  unison  with  the 
general  song  of  rejoicing. 

Councilor  Elmbach  was  there,  holding  an  ani- 
mated conversation  with  Asta,  who  stood  before 
him  in  beautiful  reserve.  It  was  evident  he  was 
speaking  of  his  son.  If  the  proud  father  in- 
tentionally avoided  every  appearance  of  sound- 
ing a  trumpet  of  praise  with  relation  to  the 
heroic  deeds  and  splendid  results  of  his  son's 
career,  she  was  able  to  recognize,  in  their  re- 
cital, the  song  of  triumph  in  which  her  dearest 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  305 

hero  played  the  role.  The  general  now  stepped 
between  them,  and  robbed  her  of  this  sweet 
interview.  It  was  an  embarrassing  moment  for 
the  three.  As  their  interest  had  been,  until 
now,  concentrated  upon  the  Drambows,  their 
personal  intercourse  was  necessarily  constrained. 

"General  Von  Geldern,"  began  the  coun- 
cilor, approaching  his  former  friend  with  an 
earnest  expression  of  deep  emotion  upon  his 
interesting  face,  "is  this  not  an  auspicious  mo- 
ment to  allow  our  past  misapprehensions  an 
opportunity  for  explanation?  As  for  myself — " 

A  lightning  glance  from  her  father  warned 
Asta  to  withdraw.  When  she  had  left  the  room, 
the  general  replied,  looking  persistently  on  the 
floor:  "The  chief  matter  rests  upon  what  be- 
came of  the  letter  which  I  sent  to  you  at  the 
time  by  my  servant.  You  will  perhaps  recollect 
that  I  entreated  you  to  sue,  in  my  behalf, 
for  Fraulein  Louise  Von  Werner's  hand.  You 
answered — " 

The  councilor  grew  very  pale,  and  inter- 
rupted :  "I  returned  the  envelope,  in  which  there 
was  nothing  but  an  empty  sheet." 

' '  Very  well ;  the  result  of  it  was  your  own 
betrothal  to  the  lady — on  account  of  which  my 
long  illness  of  months  interfered  with  further 
communication. " 

"I  have  never  been  able  to  understand  why 
26 


306  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

you  sent  me  at  that  time  an  empty  sheet  of 
paper." 

"Since  you  speak  with  such  assurance,  I 
see  nothing  but  a  continuance  of  our  unhappy 
relations." 

"I  am  of  the  same  opinion;"  wherewith  the 
councilor  seized  his  hat,  and  left  the  house  un- 
ceremoniously. The  action  had  in  it  rather  the 
appearance  of  anger  than  pain ;  but  when  he 
reached  his  villa,  his  face  had  assumed  its  usual 
expression  of  thoughtful  calm.  He  loved  to 
maintain  his  self-possession  in  all  the  affairs  of 
life,  or  rather  to  win  a  victory  over  self,  as  he 
believed  he  had  done  this  day. 

"What  a  handsome  man  my  old  Pollux  is!" 
he  thought.  "All  the  old  lion  in  him  yet; 
and  despite  his  obstinacy  and  wounding,  if  not 
discourteous  manners,  I  love  him  deeply.  But 
what  is  to  be  done  ?  If  only  Rudolph,  my  son, 
had  not  run  his  head  into  the  wall!" 

That  was  the  point  upon  which  he  reflected. 
During  a  very  short  conversation  with  his  son  in 
Bohemia,  he  had  read  the  passionate  desires  of 
his  young  heart,  and  as  plainly  had  he  observed 
their  answer  in  Asta's  lovely  face.  From  her 
silent  lips  he  had  heard  an  exquisite  "song  with- 
out words, "  which,  though  short,  should  linger  in 
pawer  throughout  eternity.  With  his  pre-emi- 
nently practical  nature,  he  resolved  to  let  mat- 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  307 

ters  take  'their  course,  with  discreet,  watchful 
patience  on  his  part.  When  he  recalled  Asta's 
beautiful  image,  as  she  had  stood  before  him  with 
throbbing  heart  and  downcast  eyes,  a  smile  illu- 
mined his  face.  He  could  not  blame  his  son. 

General  Von  Geldern,  warmly  agitated,  walked 
to  and  fro  in  the  garden  of  Drambow's  house. 
The  little  arbor  beneath  the  apple-tree  was  not 
wholly  deserted.  Linnie  was  there,  assiduously 
working  to  finish  little  Adolph's  new  dress. 
Her  heart  was  stirred  with  conflicting  feelings 
of  joy  and  sadness,  as  she  sighed:  "I  am  the 
only  one  left  alone!"  A  half-rebellious  lament 
crossed  her  soul  against  the  omnipotent  God, 
the  friend  of  her  soul,  which,  while  it  pained 
her,  she  was  unable  wholly  to  repress.  ' '  Nothing 
wonderful  happens  to  me  ;  my  graves  have  never 
opened  from  my  earliest  days  until  now.  Deso- 
late and  alone,  '  the  seamstress  of  Stettin  '  treads 
upon  the  threshold  of  old  age."  But  of  such 
thoughts  Linnie  was  always  heartily  ashamed  in 
her  better  nature,  and  she  never  failed  to  seek 
her  Heavenly  Father's  forgiveness  in  deep  repent- 
ance. That  a  rich  blessing  awaited  her  in  the 
Saxon  valley  she  did  not  know. 

When  the  general  perceived  her,  he  walked 
toward  her,  and  suddenly  said:  "Linnie  do  you 
ever  sew  on  the  old  dressing-gown  at  Hechter- 
ling's  now?" 


308  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

"I  expect  to  do  so  to-morrow." 

"Good!"  then  adding  finally:  "You  area 
sensible  woman,  and  I  can  trust  you  that  what  I 
say  shall  go  no  farther." 

"Certainly,  sir,"  she  replied,  looking  up 
calmly  and  ingenuously. 

In  a  few  quick  sentences,  and  yet  sufficiently 
ample,  he  acquainted  her  with  the  affair  of  his 
relations  toward  Councilor  Elmbach.  "  And  now 
do  me  the  favor,  without  directly  asking  old 
Hechterling  about  it,  to  discover  whether  he  has 
the  letter  in  his  hands  or  has  ever  disposed  of  it. 
The  older  I  grow,  the  more  I  am  convinced 
that  no  one  is  perfect.  I  am  sincerely  anxious 
to  clear  this  matter." 

"Why  will  you  not  forgive,  sir?"  ventured 
Linnie,  timidly. 

"Forgive?  I  have  forgiven  long  ago,  more 
than  once,  at  the  Lord's  table.  But  this  forgive- 
ness does  not  restore  to  me  my  faith  in  the  hon- 
esty of  a  lost  friend.  All  the  waters  in  the  world 
would  not  cleanse  him  in  my  eyes  from  the 
imputation  but  the  letter ;  on  the  letter  every- 
thing depends." 

At  this  moment  he  observed  Asta  at  a  dis- 
tance, among  the  shrubbery.  Calling  her,  he 
reproached  her  with :  "I  believed  you  too  proud 
for  such  conduct."  There  was  no  reply,  but 
Linnie  read  an  expression  of  the  deepest  pain 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  309 

upon  her  young  face.  Her  father  also  observed 
it ;  but  in  his  present  excitement  he  would  give 
it  no  heed,  and  left  the  arbor  in  rapid  strides. 

Asta  sat  down,  and  hid  her  face  in  her  old 
friend's  lap. 

"Linnie,  I  have  no  mother  in  whom  I  may 
confide.  I  love  him,  Linnie." 

"Whom?"  replied  the  seamstress,  in  aston- 
ishment. 

"Elmbach!"  whispered  the  young  girl. 
"Papa  will  never  permit  it.  But  do  you  think 
I  would  weep  before  him  ?"  She  tossed  her 
pretty  head  contemptuously. 

"The  daughter  of  the  lion,"  thought  Linnie. 

The  general  now  returned  to  take  her  away ; 
but  she  did  not  accept  his  silently  proffered  arm, 
but  walked  at  his  side  on  the  way  home  in  per- 
fect silence.  This  behavior  burned  her  deepest 
soul ;  for  she  knew  she  had  done  wrong. 

"If  you  expect  to  manage  your  future  hus- 
band, whoever  he  may  be,  in  this  way,  I  shall  be 
very  sorry  for  the  peace  of  your  house.  In  our 
perverted  times,  women  have  too  much  their 
own  way.  In  all  affairs,  she  either  leads  the 
regiment,  or  wishes  to,  which  is  one  and  the 
same  thing.  In  my  own  family  it  is  not  far 
from  this !  Learn  as  a  daughter  the  knowledge 
you  will  need  as  a  wife,  if  it  please  God  to  make 
you  one — or  perhaps  you  intend  to  marry  without 


310  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

my  blessing?"  With  these  words  the  general 
broke  the  silence. 

They  had  arrived  at  Victoria  Place.  Asta 
left  her  father  without  a  word,  hurried  to  her 
room,  shut  the  door,  and  threw  herself  upon  the 
sofa.  Then  she  began  to  weep ;  but  her  father's 
words  had  sorely  smitten  her  conscience  :  "  With- 
out his  blessing?  Never!"  Yet  it  was  with  in- 
finite satisfaction  she  contemplated  the  time  when 
he  should  choose  a  suitor  for  her,  and  she  should 
reply  with  supreme  iciness :  "I  never  intend  to 
marry." 

The  next  morning  it  rained,  and  a  fine  gray 
mist  enveloped  the  world.  Linnie  carried  a 
new  umbrella,  which  had  its  first  opportunity  of 
being  unfolded;  for  she  was  to  sew  at  Hechter- 
ling's.  She  went  there  somewhat  reluctantly, 
but  endeavored  to  overcome  her  unwillingness. 
Fortunately  the  old  man  was  not  at  home ;  his 
wife  said  he  had  gone  to  Berlin  to  settle  John's 
affairs,  and  to  look  after  Dorothy's  legacy. 

The  forenoon  passed  slowly.  Finally  it  was 
twelve  o'clock,  and  dinner  was  over.  The  seam- 
stress breathed  more  freely  when  Frau  Hech- 
terling  took  her  kerchief  from  the  chest  and 
expressed  the  intention  to  make  some  purchases 
on  the  wharf,  a  long  distance  from  Griinhof. 
It  still  drizzled ;  but  the  servant  girl  should  ac- 
company her,  and  Linnie  hoped  to  be  left  entirely 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  311 

alone.  She  preferred  solitude  in  this  disagree- 
able dwelling.  Closing  the  window  to  keep  out 
the  rain,  she  began  to  repair  once  more  the  old 
dressing-gown.  Ripping  a  seam  she  thrust  her 
slender  finger  down  into  the  thick  wadding,  and 
heard  a  peculiar  rustle ;  then,  as  she  pressed  the 
parts  together,  and  drew  it  forth,  a  folded  yellow 
paper,  consisting  of  several  sheets,  came  to  view. 
The  scissors  fell  from  her  hands  in  the  excitement 
of  the  moment.  Opening  the  package  she  read : 
"Dear  Rudolph," — and  continuing  the  perusal, 
a  gleam  of  joyful  surprise  beamed  upon  her  face 
as  she  saw  the  signature:  "Curt  Von  Geldern." 

That  was  the  general's  name,  her  general,  and 
this  was  the  missing  letter !  Whether  old  Hech- 
terling,  at  that  time  Lieutenant  Von  Geldern's 
servant,  had  intercepted  it,  or  the  writer,  in  his 
illness,  had  placed  an  empty  sheet  in  the  en- 
velope, and  unconsciously  slipped  this  into  a  rip, 
instead  of  a  pocket  of  the  gown,  she  did  not 
know ;  but  the  latter  was  most  probable.  Enough 
for  her  that  here  it  was !  Her  first  impulse  was 
.to  hasten  off  with  it  at  once ;  but  she  was  too 
conscientious  to  leave  the  house  unprotected, 
and  therefore  decided  to  wait  until  one  of  the 
family  should  return. 

Calming  herself,  she  sewed  on,  while  thoughts 
of  her  dear  Asta  as  a  happy  bride  caused  a  con- 
tented smile  to  play  upon  her  lips. 


312  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

In  the  pure,  peaceful  harmony  that  completely 
filled  her  soul,  there  came  a  soft,  light  disso- 
nance. She  listened.  Did  she  really  hear  a 
sound  from  afar,  or  was  it  only  in  imagination  ? 
It  was  repeated,  and  now  grew  more  and  more 
distinct.  Then  there  was  an  interruption  ;  then, 
as  if  from  beneath  her  feet,  moans  or  cries  of 
dull  pain.  They  pierced  her  very  soul,  and, 
unable  to  endure  the  agony  of  her  doubts,  she 
went  to  the  door  and  looked  out  into  the  garden. 
A  neighbor,  who  had  been  recently  married, 
was  vainly  attempting  to  adjust  a  rain  barrel  to 
the  spout.  Her  young  husband  came  from  the 
little  cottage,  and  with  a  few  strong  turns  placed 
the  barrel  firm  and  straight.  Linnie  hesitated  a 
moment,  returned  to  listen  once  more ;  then  re- 
appeared and  called  the  man.  Hearing  her 
troubled  cry,  he  stepped  at  once  to  the  hedge. 
She  whispered  a  word,  to  which  he  seemed  in- 
credulous ;  but  entering  with  her,  and  placing 
his  ear  near  the  floor,  he  was  soon  convinced, 
and  declared:  "It  comes  from  below;"  adding 
suggestively:  "Is  little  Dorothy  dead?" 

"Yes,  she  died  of  cholera;"  and  Linnie 
trembled. 

"If  you  will  not  repeat  it,"  continued  the 
neighbor,  "I  have  often  had  my  suspicions, 
since  the  old  people  obtained  the  inheritance ; 
but  one  may  err.  You  remain  here ;  I  will 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  313 

make  it  known,  and  bring  an  officer  to  search  the 
premises." 

She  sat  there,  when  he  had  gone,  with  beat- 
ing, trembling  heart.  At  length  the  door  opened, 
and  Frau  Hechterling  had  returned.  It  was 
with  difficulty  Linnie  controlled  herself.  Fortu- 
nately the  contents  of  the  basket  had  to  be 
examined  and  discussed,  and  the  pitiful  tones 
were  overpowered.  Suddenly  the  old  woman 
remarked:  "You  look  bad,  Linnie.  Is  anything 
wrong?" 

Linnie  looked  up.  How  pure  and  clear,  and 
yet  troubled,  her  eyes  were !  Not  troubled  on 
her  own  account,  but  under  apprehension  of  an 
undiscovered  crime,  which  made  her  shudder. 
She  beheld  a  precious  soul  lost  to  all  eternity, 
and  she  turned  away  in  horror  and  dismay. 

Frau  Hechterling  seemed  restless  and  sus- 
picious, and,  as  if  from  a  quick  decision,  started 
for  the  door.  It  was  opened  quietly,  and  several 
policemen,  with  the  neighbor,  entered. 

"What  does  this  mean?"  exclaimed  the  old 
woman  in  excitement. 

"We  are  sorry  to  disturb  you,  madame;  but 
we  wish  to  know  how  many  persons  occupy  this 
house?" 

"You  can  soon  know  that.  Who  else  should 
occupy  it  but  myself,  and  my  man,  and  our 
servant  ?" 

27 


314  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

"And  yet  there  is  some  one  moaning  below," 
replied  the  officer,  with  emphasis,  giving  the 
signal  to  search  the  premises. 

The  old  woman  was  on  her  guard,  but  she 
was  not  left  a  moment  alone,  and  the  officer's 
keen  eyes  detected  her  swift  glance  toward  a 
large  chest  in  the  corner  of  the  long,  dark  room. 
The  men  returned  with  the  report  that  no 
one  had  been  discovered  throughout  the  house. 
With  a  gesture  from  their  chief,  the  chest  was 
removed,  which  disclosed  a  trap  door. 

"Light  a  lantern,"  he  said,  as  he  lifted 
the  door. 

The  meanings  were  now  heard  with  more  per- 
fect distinctness,  and  soon  one  of  the  men  came 
up  the  ladder  leading  from  the  cellar,  with  what 
at  first  seemed  the  skeleton  of  a  child.  But  the 
breath  of  life  was  still  there,  and  Linnie  recog- 
nized little  Dorothy !  The  little  one  was  soon 
cared  for  tenderly ;  and  as  Frau  Hechterling  re- 
mained stubbornly  silent  during  the  proceedings, 
an  ambulance  was  summoned,  and  the  child  taken 
to  a  hospital,  accompanied  by  Linnie.  When 
she  had  recovered  sufficiently  to  talk,  she  re- 
lated her  imprisonment  in  the  gloomy  cellar  by 
her  inhuman  grandparents.  Why  they  had  not 
murdered  her  outright  instead  of  submitting  her 
to  the  slow  process  of  death  by  starvation  and 
confinement,  remains  a  psychological  enigma. 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  315 

Old  Hechterling  had  neglected  to  fasten  an 
inner  door,  and  the  child  had  crept  along  in  her 
weakness,  below  the  room  where  her  feeble  cries 
had  been  heard. 

Linnie  remained  at  the  hospital  until  Dorothy 
was  restored ;  then  left  to  carry  the  result  of  her 
discovery  to  the  general. 

He  was  in  his  study,  where  he  greeted  her 
with  extreme  cordiality.  "But  you  look  mis- 
erable; what  has  happened?"  he  said. 

"Very  much,  sir;  and  I  have  come  here  to 
tell  you.  May  I  ask,  also,  to  see  the  ladies?" 

"I  will  call  them;"  and  he  soon  returned 
with  Aunt  Mylitta  and  Asta,  the  former  entering 
wih  an  air  of  nonchalance,  the  latter  with  a 
determined  and  obdurate  mien. 

By  dint  of  great  effort  the  seamstress  con- 
trolled her  emotions,  and  related  what  seemed 
almost  incredible.  Even  Fraulein  Mylitta  pressed 
her  perfumed  handkerchief  to  her  eyes,  and 
murmured  something  like:  "Wonderful  ro- 
mance!" "surprising  deliverance!"  "tragic  con- 
flict!" Asta,  wholly  relaxed  from  her  inflexible 
attitude,  wept  like  a  child,  and  would  have  has- 
tened instantly  to  the  hospital  with  wine  and  cake 
if  the  general  had  not  restrained  her. 

There  was  a  pause.  Linnie  felt  relieved. 
She  could  now  close  the  gate  of  terror,  and  enter 
the  beautiful  garden  of  happiness.  It  is  not  all 


316  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

darkness  ;  there  are  places  in  Stettin  where  spring 
reigns,  where  roses  bloom.  "  I  have  not  finished 
my  story,"  she  continued.  "Something  very 
pleasant  remains  to  be  told." 

"Still  more?"  exclaimed  Asta.  "Then  it  is 
indeed  a  time  of  wonders !  You  smile  especially 
at  me,  Linnie.  What  is  it?"  and  a  lively  flush 
suffused  her  face. 

"When  I  was  repairing  old  Hechterling's 
dressing-gown,  I  found  this  letter  between  the 
wadding.  It  must  be  yours,  sir,  as  your  name 
is  attached  to  it." 

The  general  took  it  in  his  hands,  and,  glanc- 
ing over  it,  remarked  with  emotion:  "It  is  my 
letter  to  Elmbach.  Then  Rudolph  did  not  re- 
ceive it,  and  I  have  so  long — "  he  did  not  com- 
plete the  sentence,  but  tore  open  the  door,  and 
cried  in  tones  of  thunder:  "The  carriage,  Fred- 
erick!" Asta  threw  herself  in  his  arms.  He 
kissed  her  tenderly  :  "Yes,  indeed,  my  child,  it  is 
a  time  of  wonders!"  Then  turning  to  Linnie: 
"I  know  why  the  Almighty  needs  you  on  the 
earth ;  you  are  one  of  his  messengers,  ordered  to 
carry  out  his  designs."  He  would  almost  have 
embraced  her,  but  she  stretched  out  her  arms 
warningly,  not  only  against  this  manifestation  of 
regard,  but  against  the  high  meed  of  praise. 

A  short  time  thereafter,  the  general  and  Asta 
were  on  the  way  to  Grlinhof.  He  proposed  to 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  317 

have  the  seamstress  accompany  them ;  but  she 
had  promised  Dorothy  to  see  her  again  before 
morning,  and  hither  she  went  with  all  the  strength 
of  a  mother's  yearning  love. 

The  handsome  carriage  rattled  over  the  pave- 
ments so  rapidly  that  pedestrians  were  obliged  to 
hurry  out  of  its  way ;  and  yet  the  general  sat 
therein  as  upon  coals  of  fire.  That  he,  through 
his  obstinacy,  had  steadfastly  believed  his  friend's 
guilt,  all  these  years,  burned  his  soul;  and  now 
could  he  ever  make  reparation  ? 

Councilor  Elmbach  sat  in  his  library,  dwelling 
upon  the  past.  The  approach  of  a  carriage  dis- 
turbed his  reverie.  The  door  was  opened,  and  to 
his  surprise  General  Von  Geldern  and  his  daughter 
came  rapidly  forward,  the  latter  crying  and  laugh- 
ing almost  in  a  breath.  What  could  it  mean? 

The  general  extended  both  arms:  "Rudolph, 
can  you  forgive  me?" 

"It  has  always  been  my  sincerest  desire  that 
we  might  have  an  understanding,"  was  the  reply  ; 
"that  you  might  have  faith,  not  only  in  me,  but 
in  German  fidelity,"  he  added. 

"I  have  just  found  my  letter  to  you,  Ru- 
dolph. It  was  lost,  and  has  been  restored  to  me 
by  Linnie  Bergmann." 

"Is  it  possible ?"  But  he  could  say  no  more, 
for  the  general's  strong  arms  held  him  so  firmly 
there  was  no  resistance. 


3l8  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

"Louise's  love  was  a  gift  from  Heaven  to 
me.  I  did  nothing  to  win  her.  Do  you  believe 
this?"  said  the  councilor,  as  soon  as  the  lion 
grasp  had  been  released. 

' '  A  thousand  times  !     Forgive  me,  Rudolph  !" 

"Only  under  one  condition — such  a  complica- 
tion can  be  made  plain  and  clear  only  by  a 
sacrifice !  And  here  a  father  speaks  in  behalf  of 
an  absent  son." 

The  general  seized  Asta's  hand,  and  led  her 
to  the  councilor:  "Take  her;  and  may  she 
prove  a  good  daughter  to  you  !  May  she  replace, 
in  some  measure,  our  lovely  Louise,  and  be  a 
blessing  to  your  house  !" 

"When  the  troops  return,"  replied  the  coun- 
cilor, gallantly  raising  to  his  lips  the  pretty  little 
hand,  ' '  this  shall  be  given  over  to  Captain  Von 
Elmbach — the  blooming  myrtle  entwined  with 
the  laurel  in  a  conqueror's  wreath.  In  this  way 
we  shall  welcome  him." 

"Yes,  we  shall  welcome  him  so,"  reiterated 
Asta  out  of  the  depths  of  her  happy  heart. 

The  councilor  could  not  suppress  a  smile 
when  the  excitement  had  abated,  and  the  inter- 
esting details  had  been  related  as  his  guests  sat 
at  luncheon  by  his  finely  appointed  table. 

Linnie  Bergmann  had  played  the  rdle  of 
Alexander  the  Great,  inasmuch  as  she  had  cut 
the  Gordian  knot ;  but  instead  of  hewing  it,  she, 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  319 

as  "the  seamstress  of  Stettin,"  had  accomplished 
it  with  a  simple  pair  of  scissors.  This  circum- 
stance led  to  inquiries  into  her  worldly  affairs, 
the  loss  of  her  inheritance,  etc.,  of  which  the 
councilor  had  some  recollection. 

"I  wonder  whether  she  has  retained  the  pa- 
pers?" he  asked. 

But  Asta  could  not  give  any  information  on 
this  point. 

It  was  now  the  last  of  September.  Stettin  was 
arrayed  in  festal  splendor.  To-day  the  victorious 
troops  should  return  home.  Everybody  was 
abroad  to  greet  and  welcome  them. 

Hark !  they  come !  That  is  the  regiment's 
music,  the  thrilling  drum-beat ;  and  from  thou- 
sands of  throats  is  heard,  "Huzza!"  Now  they 
are  in  sight ;  now  passing  through  the  Schnecken 
Gate.  What  a  welcome  Stettin  gives  her  sons ! 
How  the  air  vibrates  with  the  thundering,  heart- 
felt greetings !  Now  they  advance  up  the  hilly 
streets — the  king's  Grenadier  Regiment,  led  by 
its  commander ! 

In  the  midst  of  the  excited  throng  presses  a 
slender  woman,  carrying  a  young  baby.  Six 
other  children,  holding  one  another's  hands,  form 
a  living  chain  behind  her.  Little  Fritz  brings  up 
the  rear  as  the  smallest  link,  following,  as  best  he 
may,  upon  his  short  legs. 


320  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

"Mother!  mother!  that  is  ours — that  is  the 
Fifth  Company!  Mother!  mother!  do  you  see 
Captain  Elmbach  ?  Over  there,  with  the  great 
black  eyes — " 

But  Frau  Schultz  has  little  interest  in  the 
handsome  man,  who  greets  his  native  city  with 
proud,  uplifted  head,  surrounded  with  a  halo  of 
victory.  His  charger,  covered  with  wreaths, 
bears  his  burden  with  stately  step ;  and  now  the 
warrior  looks  up  toward  a  decorated  balcony, 
where  the  flowers  of  Stettin  bloom,  arrayed  in 
white  garments.  Bowing  profoundly,  his  "Star" 
appears  before  all  others,  and,  bending  over, 
throws  a  wreath,  which  he  skillfully  catches  on  his 
sword,  then  hangs  on  his  left  arm  nearest  the 
heart,  the  laurel  and  myrtle. 

Frau  Schultz  was  not  particularly  absorbed 
in  this  pretty  episode,  however  thrilling  and 
poetic  it  was  to  the  participants.  With  a  cry, 
she  throws  her  arms  around  a  full-bearded  cor- 
poral, with  a  deeply  bronzed,  manly  face. 

"Father,  father!"  comes  from  the  chain  of 
children;  "father!  we  are  all  here — all  here 
together!" 

They  clamber  around  his  knees,  pressing  be- 
tween the  ranks ;  and  the  comrades  who  witness 
it  ply  their  jokes.  But  he  doesn't  mind  them, 
and  takes  little  Ida  from  his  wife,  while  she, 
hanging  upon  his  arm,  takes  up  the  rapid  march- 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  321 

step,  and  little  Fritz's  legs  appear  to  float  in  the 
air  behind  him,  really  only  touching  the  ground 
here  and  there.  Then  only  his  bright-red  stock- 
ings are  seen,  which  finally  also  disappear. 

The  grenadiers,  who  had  shown  such  for- 
titude and  endurance  on  the  battle-field,  were  at 
length  unable  to  keep  step  in  the  midst  of 
their  rejoicing.  In  rapid  double-quick  they  hasten 
up  the  avenue  to  the  parade  ground  and  King's 
Place,  where  they  shall  be  dismissed. 

They  who  witnessed  the  spectacle  of  shoe- 
maker Schultz  and  his  family  returning  to  their 
domicile,  will  never  forget  it.  Asta  had  pret- 
tily furnished  the  rooms  at  No.  25  Fisher  Street, 
and  ordered  a  dinner  in  honor  of  the  occasion. 
Schultz  placed  his  gun  in  a  corner,  and  hung  a 
wreath  upon  it.  Then  they  all  surrounded  the 
bountiful  table,  after  giving  thanks  to  God  for 
his  mercy  and  goodness. 

While  they  were  thus  pleasantly  engaged,  and 
had  made  vast  inroads  upon  the  pound-cake,  a 
peculiar  stamping  was  heard  on  the  stairway. 

"That  is  Alfred  Winter,"  said  Frau  Schultz. 
"He  has  returned  from  seeing  the  troops,  with 
his  wife." 

"Now,  that  is  very  curious,"  replied  the  cor- 
poral. "Is  he  really  married?" 

"O  yes,  before  he  left  Berlin." 

"Father,"  interrupted  one  of  the  boys,  "he 


322  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

has  his  leg  again.  The  doctor  put  it  on,  and 
he  wears  a  boot,  and  can  walk  like  other 
people." 

"Did  they  bring  any  outfit  with  them?"  said 
Schultz. 

' '  Nothing  in  the  world  but  a  hat-box ;  and 
there  is  absolutely  nothing  in  that  but  a  new 
Paris  bonnet,  which  she  treasures  with  great 
concern." 

"But  what  do  they  expect  to  do?" 

"She  makes  beautiful  dresses,  and  he  has 
some  business  in  prospect,  he  says, — the  manu- 
facture of  boot-polish,  for  which  he  bought  a 
receipt.  I  suppose  when  he  is  n't  fiddling  he  will 
make  the  polish,  and  they  will  do  very  well." 

"He  will  receive  a  handsome  pension,"  con- 
tinued Schultz,  thoughtfully.  "  If  he  would  only 
be  more  economical,  and  take  life  more  seriously, 
I  should  like  him  better." 

"He  has  changed,"  assured  Frau  Schultz. 
"  He  plays  hymns  now.  Run  down,  Augusta, 
and  invite  him  and  his  young  wife  up  for  the 
coffee;  there  is  enough  for  all." 

Augusta  followed  instructions,  and  the  Win- 
ters soon  entered,  arm  in  arm,  both  looking  as 
bright  and  happy  as  two  butterflies. 

"  We  are  both  very  well,"  said  the  rosy  bride, 
"and  we  shall  soon  get  along.  A  man  with  a 
fiddle  is  better  than  any  one." 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  323 

Schultz  laughed  heartily.  "It  has  ended 
beautifully.  We  shall  be  good  neighbors.  And 
now,  Winter,  I  have  one  request :  when  your 
work  is  done,  come  up  on  Saturdays  and  play 
for  us  'There  is  rest  for  the  weary,'  and  we  will 
all  sing  it." 

"I  am  willing;  but  you  must  introduce  and 
use  my  'boot-polish.'  It  will  bring  us  fine 
business." 

The  hours  of  that  memorable  day  passed  all 
too  quickly.  In  the  evening  the  entire  city  was 
brilliantly  illuminated,  and  the  Villa  Elmbach 
beamed  in  double  splendor.  Father  and  son 
expected  guests.  The  latter  stood,  watch  in 
hand,  in  the  elegantly  decorated  salon.  The 
hour  approached  when  he  should  resign  his  bach- 
elorhood. His  heart  beat  impatiently,  and  he 
stepped  without,  in  the  starry  night.  There  was 
only  one  "Star"  for  him.  When  he  returned, 
a  number  of  friends  had  arrived ;  and  soon  after, 
a  carriage  brought  General  Von  Geldern,  his 
sister-in-law,  and  Asta.  The  young  girl  was  in 
bridal  array,  which  floated  around  her  as  a  silver 
cloud.  Councilor  Elmbach  met  them,  and  the 
young  couple  were  introduced  to  the  assembled 
guests  as  betrothed.  There  was  soft  music, 
while,  in  subdued  conversation,  the  events  of  the 
day  were  discussed. 

Somewhat   later  the   Drambows  arrived,    the 


324  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

little  Avife  in  breathless  haste,  apologizing  with, 
"I  was  obliged  to  remain  and  see  little  Adolph 
safely  to  bed." 

When  the  early  evening  was  over,  the  circle 
diminished  in  numbers,  and  the  intimate  friends 
of  the  family  alone  remained.  A  lovely  place 
had  been  reserved  beneath  the  palms,  where  the 
bridal  pair  stood,  attended  by  Captain  Von 
Drambow  and  his  wife. 

Beam  strong,  ye  tapers !  perfume  afar,  ye 
flowers !  and  meet  unhindered  the  eyes  and 
hearts  of  these  beloved  ! 

"  Only  one  thing  troubles  me,"  whispered  the 
beautiful  bride,  when  the  wedding  ceremony  had 
been  impressively  performed ;  ' '  they  tell  me 
you  are  not  a  believer,  dearest  Rudolph.  I  can 
not  think  so." 

"I  trust,  my  love,  I  have  returned  from  the 
war  a  changed  man.  I  may  say  I  have  put 
away  childish  things,"  replied  the  handsome 
bridegroom,  earnestly. 

Drambow,  who  had  partly  overheard  the  fore- 
going, added:  "We  all  seem  to  have  brought 
home  a  rich  booty,  which  we  are  not  ashamed  to 
exhibit.  Even  Alfred  Winter,  the  light-hearted 
jester,  has  become  another  person ;  and  shoe- 
maker Schultz  will  always  remain  the  typical 
Prussian  reserve,  who  went  forth  with  God,  for 
the  king  and  fatherland.  We  have  all  received 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  325 

a  blessing  from  our  God,  in  his  infinite  grace 
and  mercy." 

"But  I  should  be  glad  if  we  never  forgot  all 
the  terrible  occurrences  of  this  fearful  summer," 
interposed  his  little  wife.  "Asta  calls  it  'a  time 
of  tears  and  wonder,'  and  she  is  right." 

"They  will  be  forgotten  though,  like  every- 
thing else,"  was  heard  earnestly  from  Councilor 
Elmbach. 

"O  no,  never,  never  forgotten !"  insisted  Frau 
Von  Drambow.  ' '  As  soon  as  my  Adolph  can 
understand  them,  I  shall  talk  to  him  hour  after 
hour,  so  that  it  shall  live  long  after  this  century." 

"Please  omit  from  the  recital  the  misun- 
derstanding between  Castor  and  Pollux,"  inter- 
jected the  general;  "we  desire  all  that  to  be 
buried  in  oblivion,  together  with  the  old  dress- 
ing-gown;  not  so,  my  dear  fellow?" 

"Sunken  in  Lethe's  stream,"  assented  the 
host,  warmly. 

And  now  it  would  seem  as  though  this  inter- 
esting day  should  be  ended.  But  there  was  a 
voiceless  something  in  the  outlook  wanting — a 
more  perfect  conclusion  expected.  At  times  all 
looked  toward  the  door ;  and  the  general  finally 
drew  forth  his  watch,  for  the  time  had  come,  and 
a  modest  footstep  was  heard  at  the  entrance. 
Linnie  appeared  there,  leading  little  Dorothy  by 
the  hand. 


326  THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN. 

"Here  she  is  at  last,"  exclaimed  the  general; 
"I  knew  she  had  the  military  blood  of  punc- 
tuality in  her  veins!" 

"I  beg  pardon,"  beamed  the  seamstress;  "I 
have  been  detained  at  Schultz's  and  at  tailor 
Newberger's — ' ' 

"I  can  readily  see,"  interrupted  Frau  Von 
Drambrow,  "how  everybody  wants  you;  but 
now  you  have  wept  so  long  with  us,  you  must 
share  in  our  rejoicing." 

"But  do  you  not  wish  to  see  the  bride?" 
playfully  reproached  Asta. 

"God  bless  you,  Linnie,  a  thousand  times," 
emphasized  the  general,  heartily. 

"  If  I  may  be  permitted  to  say  a  word,"  in- 
terrupted Captain  Von  Drambow,  "let  me  ex- 
press our  gratitude  to  you,  Linnie.  You  have 
been  like  a  burning  light,  from  which  our  dim, 
flickering  wicks  were  enkindled.  There  is  some- 
thing inexpressibly  great  in  a  sincere  Christian's 
quiet  life.  We  beg  for  your  intercession  !" 

"And  allow  me  to  add,"  said  the  councilor, 
"that  the  Hechterlings  have  been  sentenced  to  a 
life-long  imprisonment,  and  that  the  guardian- 
ship of  little  Dorothy  has  been  intrusted  to  you, 
Fraulein  Bergmann.  The  child's  trustees  have 
made  over  a  handsome  sum  for  her  education 
and  maintenance ;  and  I  am  also  pleased  to  state 
that  an  old  creditor  of  your  father  restores  to 


THE  SEAMSTRESS  OF  STETTIN.  327 

you  a  part  of  your  lost  inheritance.  You  can 
therewith  enjoy  with  your  adopted  child  a  per- 
manent home  here,  and  continue  to  prove  a 
blessing  to  the  people  of  Stettin."  ;, 

Linnie  stood  with  streaming  eyes  before  them  ; 
and,  with  John's  child  pressed  to  her  heart,  she 
felt  God's  goodness  was  eternal.  But  the  end 
had  not  yet  come.  In  behalf  of  those  present, 
a  pretty  little  cottage  near  the  Drambows  was 
presented  to  the  faithful  seamstress,  and  a  liberal 
amount  of  money  appropriated  for  her  works  of 
faith  and  labors  of  love  among  the  poor  and 
afflicted  of  the  city. 

Thus  they  remained  together,  with  uplifted 
hearts,  and  hands  folded  in  united  prayer  for  the 
Divine  blessing.  Linnie  anticipated  a  future  of 
peace  and  joy — a  life  whose  golden  autumn 
should  more  than  recompense  for  the  trials  of  its 
spring  and  summer. 

The  beautiful  flowers  exhaled  their  sweet  ex- 
istence, and  the  wax  tapers  burned  low,  when 
the  company  separated  for  their  homes.  Linnie 
departed,  holding  the  child  by  her  hand. 

Farewell,  farewell,   "Seamstress  of  Stettin!" 


A     000142735     o 


